A Way To Live
by One Fine Wire
Summary: "I find a way to live. I speak to you because it gives me strength to know that you are there. I covet your eyes, your ears, the collapsible space between us. How blessed are we to have each other? How can I pretend that you do not exist?"
1. You Take Care

**A Way To Live**

_Whatever I do, however I find a way to live, I will tell these stories. I have spoken to every person I have encountered these last difficult days, and every person who has entered this club during these awful morning hours, because to do anything else would be less than human. I speak to these people, and I speak to you because I cannot help it. It gives me strength, almost unbelievable strength, to know that you are there. I covet your eyes, your ears, the collapsible space between us. How blessed are we to have each other? I am alive and you are alive and so we must fill the air with our words. I will fill today, tomorrow, every day until I am taken back to God. I will tell stories to people who will listen and to people who don't want to listen, to people who seek me out and to those who run. All the while I will know that you are there. How can I pretend that you do not exist? It would be almost as impossible as you pretending that I do not exist._

~Dave Eggers, What Is the What Page 535~

_All I ever wanted was to know what to do._

~Dave Eggers, You Shall Know Our Velocity! Page 352~

* * *

**Chapter I: You Take Care**

_I know you've been hurt_  
_By someone else_  
_I can tell by the way_  
_That you drag yourself_

_But if you let me_  
_Here's what I'll do_  
_I'll take care of you_

_You won't ever have to worry  
You won't ever have to cry  
I'll be there beside you  
To dry your weeping eyes_

_So darling tell me that you'll be true  
There's no doubt in my mind  
I know what I want to do  
Understand sure as one and one is two_

_I'll take care of you_

~Van Morrison, "I'll Take Care Of You"~

* * *

**I**

It was the first day of summer, and Helga Pataki woke up, feeling the very best she had in a _long _time.

After looking at her alarm clock, seeing she had slept in, she showered, blow dried her hair, and secured her blonde locks in two, low ponytails. Next, she topped off the age-old hairstyle with the pink ribbon from her childhood, which she tied in an intricate bow at the top of her head. A dark blue cap went on top, covering the ribbon and sliding down her forehead, just slightly obscuring her unibrow. She turned the cap around and finished getting dressed, slipping on a pair of blue jeans and a bright pink shirt with a red stripe at the bottom of it. Looking to her desk, she grabbed the five-dollar bill and the addressed envelope, which once lied right next to each other. Placing the five-dollar bill into her left pocket, she popped a few mints into her mouth and went out the door.

Now that Helga was out of the house, it was empty, and completely void of any of its usual occupants.

Her father Bob was at work as usual. He still ran Big Bob's Beepers with an iron fist, ensuring his employees worked long hours so he wouldn't have to. In addition to selling beepers, the emporium now sold cell phones, pagers, MP3 players, and laptops. Her father's beeper advertisements still aired on television, and he made sure that his commercials received continuous airplay now that his wife Miriam worked at the local television station. It was all apart of the Alcoholics Anonymous meetings she now attended; aside from making the commitments to stop drinking, Miriam needed to keep busy and pursue hobbies and interests that would keep her focused and prevent her thoughts from turning toward blending one of her famous "smoothies." Helga was happy for her mother and loved that she was taking the necessary steps to better life, but the young woman wished her mother was home more often.

Helga wished she could actually _see _her mother's sobriety in action, but knew her mother worked long hours so she could avoid the various six-packs of beer Bob kept in the refrigerator. Helga hated that he bought them, since he knew perfectly well Miriam was trying to get better and put her alcoholism to an eternal end. However, Bob insisted that he needed his Budweiser while watching television, and he _r__efused _to stop buying it since _he _wasn't the alcoholic, his wife was. Helga made an effort each day to hide the six-packs where her mother wouldn't see them, not wanting to repeat what she'd done the first time upon learning of the excess of Budweiser Bob kept in the house; previously, the teenager poured them all down the sink when Bob, Miriam, and Olga were out of the house at one of her older sister's theatre auditions. When her father learned what she had done, he retaliated by buying more beer and giving Helga the loudest, most contentious tongue lashing the world had ever known. He threatened to cut her off from everyone and everything for an undisclosed amount of time if she disposed of his beer again.

Olga, her older sister, was still seen as perfect in the eyes of her parents. After graduating from Bennington College with her Masters of Fine Arts, she returned home, informing the family of her plans to become an actress. Bob was furious at first, claiming most actors and actresses didn't get anywhere. Miriam was apathetic, and the whole debacle led to the first fight between Bob and Olga, where the yelling and tears lasted throughout the entire night.

For a long time, Bob refused to even acknowledge his oldest daughter's presence as she came home from various auditions without landing any work. However, all was well between them since Olga announced at dinner a few weeks ago that she'd been cast as Demeteria, which was one of the leading roles, in the Broadway revival of _Rats. _Helga found the whole thing utterly hilarious, and though Bob found the musical itself completely insipid and stupid, he was proud of her, and could now brag about his daughter, the "famous" Broadway star. Olga was seldom home now, busy with rehearsals and preparations for her Broadway debut that would take place in just four month's time.

Helga sighed, feeling isolated from her family and those around her. She'd always felt isolated from her family, but during the later part of her freshman year of high school, she even felt that way when around her classmates and her best friend, Phoebe. Now that her best friend was dating Gerald, working at the library and various day camps over the summer, balancing honors courses and extra-curricular activities during the school year, and leading an all-around busy life, Helga felt that she couldn't talk to Phoebe the way she used to. There were only _t__wo _people Helga felt comfortable talking with, but even _they _couldn't fill the void Helga felt so deeply.

She wanted to talk to Arnold.

The young woman looked down at the envelope in her right hand. It was a letter to Arnold Shortman, the one person she loved more than life itself. She loved him ever since she was three years old, when he was the only person to show her kindness. Over time, the love deepened and became more intensified, only for her to hide it with her bullying façade. She called him names, played pranks on him, and always felt the guilt eat away at her each time she threw a spitball at him or called him "Yutz." She hid her love out of ear that he would reject her, and thought he had, upon confessing her love to him atop the FTi building nearly seven years ago.

After that tumultuous summer of playing Deep Voice, allying herself with Arnold and Gerald in saving the neighborhood, lashing out at her beloved Football Head when he didn't give her any answers in regard to his feelings, he finally returned them with a kiss of his own in the jungles of San Lorenzo during their fifth grade class field trip.

Helga smiled when thinking of the memory, when his deep, green orbs looked into her cerulean ones. He brushed her hair back, tilted her chin just slightly, and kissed her, all while wrapping his arms, which were caked with dirt, around her waist.

It was blissful.

On that trip, Helga's love was requited, and Arnold had his parents back. When they returned to Hillwood, Arnold and Helga began a chaotic courtship with just as many stormy moments as there were beautiful ones. The young woman's face hardened when recalling their break-up that followed three years later. There was screaming. There were tears. But Arnold held her, kissed her, and promised her his friendship, since it was all he could do. Helga reluctantly accepted, but she was heartbroken over wanting someone she couldn't have. She still loved Arnold, but now had to bury that love deep within the confines of her heart. Each day, the love was buried deeper as she was forced to hide it.

A mere three weeks after their break-up, Arnold announced that he was moving away and would be traveling around the world, performing humanitarian work in various countries with his parents. When he left that summer, Helga lost it. She cried, screamed, and spent all her time filling her numerous pink, hardbound notebooks with poems and stories showcasing her despair, heartbreak, and rage over his imminent departure. Helga's heart broke when they ended their relationship, but she was beyond sad when he moved away. The night before he left, the blonde refused to attend the going away party Gerald threw for him. When he came to her house the next day to see her before leaving for his globetrotting, humanitarian venture, Helga refused to leave her room to come down and see him. Her heart was not only shattered over him relocating, but she was also angry with him.

Helga didn't understand how he could do this to her.

Nevertheless, she wrote to Arnold. However, the letters were never mailed. Helga wrote her first letter to him shortly after he left her house, his initial goodbye to her having failed. After finishing the letter, she placed it in an envelope, addressed it, placed a stamp in the right hand corner, and slipped the letter into the mailbox, only for her to chase Harvey down the street and demand the letter back. The two of them had become friends over the past three years, and the young woman's antics never ceased to amuse the laid back, philosophical mailman. After getting the letter back, Helga placed it inside a plastic pocket protector, which then went inside a grey binder. Over the years, Helga collected numerous of these grey binders, where she placed her letters to Arnold inside, organizing them by date. The binders themselves were lined on the shelved of her closet in chronological order.

She was very organized that way.

In addition to the letters Helga wrote to Arnold but never sent, she kept the letters Arnold wrote to her in dark blue binders placed on the shelves opposite the grey ones. These letters were also placed in pocket protectors inside the binders, and like her letters to Arnold, these too were organized by date. The dark blue binders themselves were organized in sequential order, and Helga loved looking through the letters and reading them. In the letters, Arnold told of the humanitarian work he was performing along with his parents – building health clinics, hospitals, houses, recreational centers, and schools, delivering clothes, school supplies, and other household items to those in need of them, installing water pumps to give people access to clean water, removing landmines from war-torn lands, and even delivering soccer balls to young children, just skimmed the surface of the kind of work Arnold and his parents did.

He wrote of the various places the humanitarian work took him and his parents, to places such as Argentina, Belize, Brazil, the Caribbean, Chile, Congo, Egypt, Ethiopia, Guatemala, Haiti, Jamaica, Kenya, Mexico, Mongolia, Morocco, through the Panama Canal, the Philippines, Russia, South Africa the Pacific Islands, Trinidad and Tobago, Uganda, among other exotic locations. His latest letter to her chronicled the trip his parents went on to San Lorenzo, where his mother gathered the ingredients needed to bring make an antidote that would cure a fever that many people in South America had been stricken with, leading to many deaths. He wrote and told her about how much his parents enjoyed being back there, and how he loved visiting with the Green Eyes and being able to go into their forbidden city and partake of its beauty and lush, garden state.

Her favorite letter from him, however, told of the time he was asked to coach a soccer team consisting of ten seven-year-olds while he and his parents were in Nigeria, providing the people there with adequate food that would help them gain and maintain much needed weight. Arnold wrote of the joy he got from working with the down to earth, lively, though sometimes rambunctious group of children he was coached. He even sent her a picture of him with his soccer team. In the picture, Arnold knelt in the center, surrounded by a group of Nigerian children, consisting of five boys and five girls. The children smiled proudly, wearing their bright orange soccer uniforms. Arnold grinned at the camera, laughing, those green eyes of his containing an unspeakable happiness and glow, his arms around two of the children.

Helga loved looking at that picture because it was obvious how much Arnold loved those kids and how devoted he was to see them happy. It was also clear that those kids really loved Arnold as well.

She knew it was weird to think about, but whenever she looked at the picture, she couldn't help but think of what an amazing father Arnold would be when he had children. That picture alone was a testament of that, and the young woman only hoped that she would be the one to share in that joy with him.

Placing her letter to Arnold in the right pocket of her jeans, she shooed the thought away from her mind. _"Why would Arnold want to procreate with me?"_ she thought to herself, _"All those dysfunctional times we had as a couple were partly because of my crazy family life."_ Though she knew there was more to their whirlwind courtship and their break-up, Helga knew that her unstable family life contributed to both factors. Perhaps Arnold tired of Bob calling him an orphan even though he knew fully well that his parents were back. He probably tired of being patient with her family, after seeing how dysfunctional they really were. Perchance he saw Miriam, passed out behind couch, her hair frizzy, with a "smoothie" in hand, hoping to forget her troubles. It was possible that he witnessed one of Bob's angry tirades, or the passiveness he took on when sitting in front of the television, stuffing his face with pork rinds and drinking Budweiser until he couldn't think straight. Maybe he thought Miriam wasn't the only one with a drinking problem. Also, he could've seen Olga, and how unnaturally perfect she seemed to be, but how she could fall apart and cry over the littlest offense.

Perhaps he saw Helga's family and feared that she would turn out like to be just them – impassive, overly sensitive, wasting away her life wishing for something, for someone, she could never have.

Or maybe, it was the fact that Helga was jealous of Arnold's family. He had parents who loved him and were devoted to him. His grandparents, despite their eccentricity, looked out for Arnold. They loved him, gave him advice whenever he needed it, added a lot of spice and enjoyable craziness to his life, and always looked out for his well-being. In addition, Arnold had a whole household of quirky boarders who were his extended family. They were the nuts of the family tree he just couldn't get rid of, and enjoyed having in his life, even though some of them _were_ a little senile. Helga knew she couldn't have Arnold's family and that she couldn't change the dynamics of her family to fit her own ideal of what they should be like.

Though she loved Arnold, she was always envious of his family and of the love she felt whenever she was with them or inside the boardinghouse. He probably sensed that during their courtship.

When Helga reached Slausen's, the ice-cream parlor she'd been frequenting at least once daily for the past while, she sighed in gratitude.

She really needed her usual fix after thinking of her break-up with Arnold and her unstable family.

Taking her usual seat at the counter, Helga waited for Whitney, the young waitress who'd become a dear friend to her over the course of the past few months.

"Hey Pataki," greeted Whitney, a young, attractive woman with warm skin, dark brown eyes, and long, straight black hair. "Do you want your usual order?"

Helga nodded, smiling. "You know too well that I like my brownie sundaes with the brownie fresh out of the oven, chocolate chip ice-cream on top of the chocolate and vanilla, easy on the whipped cream, _no_ maraschino cherry, and _extra_ caramel sauce."

"No chocolate sauce?" Whitney inquired, writing down her order.

"Not today," Helga answered, "I'm simply not feeling it."

"There's a whole pan of brownies cooking in the oven right now," Whitney said, grinning. "Your order should be ready in a few minutes."

"Thanks!" Helga called out. When Whitney went back to prepare Helga's daily ice-cream sundae, she couldn't help but feel some gratitude toward the young waitress. She was always there to lend an ear to Helga and listen to her, but she never judged. Whitney was putting herself through university in the big city, hoping to become a photographer. However, she loved Hillwood because of its historic, sentimental, small town charm, and decided to live and work there while she was finishing her education. She came from a large family of six siblings, who all descended from a Hawaiian father and Hapa Haole mother. Whitney and her family all had big hearts, and even though they didn't have much, they always showered Helga with the love and attention she so desperately needed, but never received from her own family.

Helga smiled, thinking of Memorial Day Weekend, when Whitney's family came up from Hawaii to visit. Over the weekend, Whitney invited her to stay over at her apartment along with her family, where Whitney's mother made scones, coffee cake, chicken long rice, and poi cookies in gargantuan proportions while her two sisters danced the Hula and sang their own compositions. Meanwhile, her younger brothers treated Helga like a guest in a five-star hotel, and her father laughed wildly at Helga's impressions of her family and classmates. Additionally, Whitney's family showered Helga with lots of hugs and kisses, making Helga well aware that they cared for her and wished for her happiness. Thinking back on that particular weekend, Helga couldn't help but find Whitney lucky to have such a strong, united family that loved and supported her. After Whitney's family returned to the Big Island, the young woman continued to be there for Helga whenever she needed her. At Slausen's, Whitney always made sure Helga had more than enough to eat and did her very best to keep her company.

When the young waitress brought out Helga's usual dessert for her, she asked, "What are your plans for today, Pataki?"

"I'm going to mail a letter," she answered, digging into her sundae.

"Is it to Arnold?" Whitney asked as her chocolate eyes lit up with excitement. Since Helga began frequenting Slausen's, Whitney loved hearing about the turbulent love story her friend shared with Arnold. He sounded like an _amazing_ person – a good listener, caring, funny, helpful, smart, and a real joy to be around. The young waitress really wanted things to end well for Helga. She deserved it.

Helga blushed in mid-bite.

"You're actually going to do this?"

The blonde nodded. "I have it right here," she said, digging into her pocket. She handed the letter to Whitney, who looked at it with a large grin upon her face. Her eyes grew larger as she continued surveying the envelope. "You're really going through with this, aren't you?" she said in disbelief. "This letter… has _everything_ in it?"

"Well… not _everything,_" Helga said, taking the envelope back. "But I _won't_ be chasing Harvey down the street. I swear. I've come this far, and the mailbox is just a block from here. I'll walk to the mailbox, possibly come back here for another brownie sundae, and then take the bus to my appointment with Doctor Bliss."

"She's a great lady," Whitney said, a smile etched upon her face. "How are your appointments with her coming along?"

"They're fine," Helga answered. "I've been seeing her since I was nine for two days a week. The only difference now is that I'm sixteen, angst-ridden, emotional, still in love with the guy who once had my heart but is now jet setting around the world, and I see Doctor Bliss for three days a week now instead of just two."

The young waitress wanted to laugh at Helga's dry, satirical proclamation, but pursed her lips instead, waiting for Helga to say more. Whitney had a lot to say to her young friend, but knew it could blow up in her face. She knew she couldn't force Helga into anything, and neither could Doctor Bliss. Helga would have to come into her own herself.

When Helga finished her sundae, stood up from her stool on the counter, and placed a five-dollar bill next to the bowl, Whitney said, "It's on me today, Pataki, don't leave anything."

"Are you sure?" Helga asked.

"Positive," Whitney replied, grabbing the bowl and heading toward the back, where she would place it in the dishwasher with the other dirty dishes. "Just mail that letter and get to your appointment."

"Thanks, Whitney," Helga said gratefully. "I'll see you later!" she exclaimed, as she walked out the door.

"You take care!" Whitney called from the back.

Feeling content, Helga began walking toward the mailbox to send her letter. The irony here was that the mailbox she was placing the letter in was in front of Arnold's house. She loved walking here, but knew that if she took her usual route that she'd receive the typical glares and sympathetic stares from the people she walked past. She decided to take the longer, lonelier route to Arnold's house by walking through the alleyways. Though Helga could care less about the concerned, well-intentioned stares she received, she needed her solitude now, and simply needed to think.

Helga Pataki was fifteen years old and hadn't changed much over the years. At the same time, she was very different. She'd grown six inches since the fourth grade, but felt that she still looked the same she did when she was nine. She was still the closet romantic, dreamer, and idealist, the girl who still pined for Arnold, her ex-boyfriend, friend, football headed love god, and true love. She still carried the golden, heart-shaped locket bearing his picture inside her shirt, which she pulled out and sang to whenever she fancied. Helga could still do cruel, but hilariously accurate impressions of her childhood classmates, which they either found humorous or offensive. During the school year, she made dry, sardonic comments in class and received the highest marks in her Creative Writing and English classes. Mr. Simmons still read her writings aloud even though he knew it irritated her and she still signed all her creative writings under the moniker Anonymous. She gave anyone who so much as stared at her funny a run for their money with the help of Old Betsy and the Five Avengers. She was the girl who could still make Harold Berman cry and who intimidated people whenever she walked their way.

Helga G. Pataki was the girl people knew _not_ to mess with.

Regardless of the prominent bump underneath her shirt.

She was six months pregnant with a due date of August thirty-first. The conception itself was unplanned and occurred in the spur of the moment. The deed was done without protection, because she, along with the father of her child, didn't even _think_ to use it during their hasty sexual rendezvous. Helga didn't even _know_ she was pregnant until she was three months along, mistaking the light bleeding some pregnant women experienced as a lighter menstruation. As a result, she assumed that the pregnancy weight she gained was bloat and water weight. The young woman never felt nauseated or ill, bud _did_ feel tired and noticed she had put on weight throughout the months of December and January. However, she attributed her exhaustion and weight gain to the stress of final exams, Christmas shopping, the holiday season, the overabundance of sweets, and the beginning of the new semester. Her insane home life never helped matters, and neither did her old habit of staying up well into the hours of the night reading, writing, or completing the homework she'd procrastinated on.

Helga assumed that her pregnancy symptoms were from stress and hadn't even known that there had been such a drastic change in her until she was at one of her appointments with Doctor Bliss.

**II**

"Helga, are you all right?" Doctor Bliss, the caring, empathetic woman asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Helga answered, yawning, all whilst stretching out on the couch across from Doctor Bliss.

"Are you sure, Helga?" Doctor Bliss inquired gently, getting up from her chair and placing herself on the couch. She placed her palm against Helga's forehead. "Do you feel ill?"

"No," Helga replied, "Just tired."

Doctor Bliss looked at Helga worriedly. After returning to her chair to get her clipboard, she returned to the couch and sat next to Helga. She said, "You tell me you've been stressed out for the past little while, even though you _know_ how to deal with these kind of things. Since you've been seeing me, we've discussed various tactics on how to get rid of stress and not let it rule your life. Helga, if there's _something else_ that's attributing to your stress, aside from school or your family, something that you want to get out of your system, _right now_ would be the best time for you to do so."

Helga gulped as beads of sweat formed at her temples and began falling down her face. She looked down and saw the excess weight she'd gained sitting on her stomach, refusing to be integrated in with the rest of her body. Noticing how tight her shirt was against her body, and how unflattering it looked, she felt uncomfortable upon realizing that it wasn't just bloat and water weight that attributed to her weight gain, but something more. She blushed upon coming to the realization that her pants felt a little _too_ snug and that she'd had trouble getting the zipper up on them when she got dressed that morning. Her mind took her back to that night, the vivid memory of sex and of his body grinding against her own as placed himself inside of her, the radio turned to nineties soft rock with the heavy metal and techno music from outside filtering through their ears.

Finding that she was in a cold sweat, with tears threatening to fall, she looked up at Doctor Bliss and said quietly, "I think I might be pregnant."

Doctor Bliss nodded, went to her desk, and made a quick phone call that Helga didn't bother to listen in on. After ending the phone conversation, Helga and Doctor Bliss exited her office and the two of them walked downstairs to the second floor, which housed the various offices of obstetricians who worked in the area. The walls were painted a surrealistic peach color, where pictures of the various stages of pregnancy were nailed against it in dark, wooden oak frames. While Doctor Bliss went to the front desk and arranged an appointment for Helga, the young, nervous woman stared in shock at the diagrams. The picture that showed how big ten centimeters was, which was the size a woman's cervix had to be before she could properly deliver her baby stirred fear into Helga, making her hope that she wouldn't have to go through the agonizing pain of bringing a child into the world anytime soon. Fake plants and shrubbery were used as decoration, and the magazines on the small tables in front of the couches and chairs were all about pregnancy and parenting. She felt sick to her stomach, like she had to vomit, and her knees began shaking.

"Helga," Doctor Bliss said softly, putting her arms around the young woman's shoulders, helping her to stay standing, "You'll go in for a simple urine test. It won't take very long."

Helga nodded. When the doctor's assistant called her name shortly afterward, she hugged Doctor Bliss before following the assistant into an examination room, not knowing how her shaky legs could stand, let alone move and allow her to walk without fainting.

The examination room itself was sterile and uninviting. The walls, ceiling, and floor were a stark white color, and various, gleaming medical supplies in a striking silver shade hung upon the wall. Helga gulped and felt the color drain from her face when she saw a sonogram machine in front of her, hoping the machine wouldn't be of use to her anytime soon.

The young woman looked up at the doctor's assistant, a heavyset, middle aged, redheaded woman with cat eye glasses, wearing lipstick that was too bright for her complexion and bright, purple hospital scrubs with yellow butterflies on them. She held out a plastic cup to Helga.

"Urinate into this cup up to the blue line," she told Helga. "When you're done, you'll wait here while the results are processed. If, in fact, you are pregnant, I can see if you can get an ultrasound today. If not, you can schedule one at the front desk."

"How accurate are these test results?" Helga asked, taking the cup with wobbling fingers.

"About ninety-seven to ninety-nine percent," the doctor's assistant answered, her voice fervent. "If your urine sample comes back positive, it's safe to say you're pregnant. She gave Helga a sad mile and stared at her with pity swimming in her hazel eyes. "Good luck."

Helga swallowed the saliva that'd been gathering in her mouth nervously, walked out of the examination room, and entered the bathroom next door. She undid her pants, and slid them down to her ankles, along with her underwear, in haste. She urinated into the cup, the smell of the liquid being expelled from her body overwhelming her senses. When she was done, she walked out of the bathroom, humiliated. Never in a million years did she think she'd _ever_ hold a cup containing her own, hot urine.

Handing the cup back to the doctor's assistant, who then left the room to process the results, Helga sat upon the examination table and waited in the whitewashed room for her fate to be revealed. She watched the clock above her tick away loudly, moment by moment, as if it enjoyed watching Helga wait for the very results that could change everything.

When she heard the door open, Helga looked down, breathing deeply, and then faced the doctor's assistant, her entire body trembling. Upon seeing the doctor assistant's face, Helga saw right through the woman, and knew.

**III**

As she continued walking through the alleyways, Helga felt she'd been doing a lot of thinking lately. Whitney and Doctor Bliss, however, felt that she hadn't been doing enough of it. The two of them never pushed the matter or were out of line, but they expressed their concerns to Helga and hoped she would come into her own in regards to the situation. Helga knew she could always rely on Whitney and Doctor Bliss, the compassionate woman, psychologist, and mother figure Helga so desperately needed in her life. She gave Helga more advice, help, love, and support than her parents and older sister did. When Bob refused to help Helga out when he learned she was pregnant, Doctor Bliss stepped in. She counseled Helga when she was torn over whether or not to terminate the pregnancy. She arranged Helga's doctor's appointments and helped her choose an obstetrician. It was through the most recent doctor's appointment the kind woman arranged that Helga learned she was carrying a boy.

A boy she hoped was like _her,_ and _not_ his father.

The father of Helga's child wasn't involved, and not a day went by that Helga resented him, cursed him name and the ground he walked out, and flat out _hated_ him. She didn't care that he didn't like her and had no interest in pursuing a relationship with her after their impulsive one night stand, but the fact that he abandoned his child was just inexcusable and made Helga hate him even more.

Upon finding herself standing below the fire escape leading to Arnold's bedroom, she stopped walking. Though she saw the mailbox just a few feet away, Helga leaned against the boarding house, and sighed, pulling the locket bearing the picture of Arnold's nine-year-old self, with this spiky blonde hair that stood in numerous directions, those lidded green eyes, and that easygoing grin of his Helga absolutely adored.

"Oh Arnold," she lamented, allowing herself to side against the outside of the boardinghouse wall into a sitting position. "My true love, there are days when I yearn to turn back time and erase the act of stupidity I committed in the heat of the moment."

She exhaled. "It's not that I don't love the child growing inside of me, because I do, but I wish I'd been more careful. I wish it wasn't necessary to resent, hate, and curse the person with whom I made the first member of my progeny. It's one thing if he doesn't care about me, but for him to not care about his own flesh and blood…"

Helga shook her head. "Then again, my beloved, would I be thinking this way if _you_ were the father? You're a decent, genuine person, and while it is true that you have much more sense than to do the deed at the young, tender age of fifteen, let alone without protection, I know that if you were to ever face situation of placing someone with child, that you would accept the consequences and be a _true_ man.

"Why couldn't _you_ have been the father, Arnold? Of _all_ people, _why_ did it have to be – "

"Helga?"

She put her locket away clumsily and looked up.

It was Arnold Shortman in the flesh. His hair was longer and somewhat shaggy, falling just slightly into his gorgeous green eyes. Though his hair was still the color of straw, it was significantly lighter, most likely due to all the time he spent outside, performing the humanitarian work he moved away to do. The same blue hat from their childhood still rested upon his head. Arnold's skin was tan and golden, making his wondrous green orbs and golden hair stand out against his darker complexion. He wore an unyielding red shirt that accentuated his lean upper body, fitted, light washed blue jeans, and white Converse sneakers. He held a bag of trash in his right hand.

"What are _you_ doing here, Football Head?" Helga shot at him. When he stared at her with a bewildered look upon his face, the young woman blushed and put her hands to her mouth in embarrassment. She couldn't believe she said that.

Arnold laughed. "I should be asking you the same question," he remarked in his low, husky voice.

Helga smiled. Though Arnold's voice changed, he still sounded the same way he did when he left three years ago.

"That's great," she said, placing her arms around her protruding stomach in an attempt to hide it.

"Would you like to come inside?" Arnold asked. "I'm sure my parents would love to see you again."

Helga stared up at him, thinking of the situation she'd just gotten herself into, all because she wanted to be solitary and get lost in her own thoughts. She cursed herself for being so idiotic – if only she'd taken her normal route, the letter would probably be in the mail by now, on it's way to greet Arnold in a foreign land, waiting for his return to read it. More likely, it'd be inside one of the plastic pocket protectors, inside one of the grey binders inside her closet, visible to only her eyes, and no one else's. Helga continued staring at Arnold nervously. She didn't want Arnold to see her like this, and she hated the thought of his parents knowing of her pregnancy, and of the thoughts that would work their way into their minds. When Helga didn't respond, instead, only looking at him with a look of horror upon her face, Arnold didn't recoil, but instead extended his hand to her. "Need a hand?" he asked.

Looking at his hand, and then back to Arnold, Helga shook her head in defiance. _"I can get up by myself, Bucko,"_ she said, her voice defensive. "I don't need _your_ help to do it."

"_What are you_ _**doing?**__" _her thoughts demanded of her. _"__**Why**_ _are you acting this way toward Arnold? There's_ _**no**_ _reason for you to be mean to him!"_

"Okay," Arnold said, taking his hand back and raising both of them in the air. "I'll let you get up yourself, if that's what you want."

"Fine," Helga retorted sharply. She mentally slapped herself for acting rude as she still kept one arm wrapped around her taut stomach, placing her right hand against the boardinghouse, lifting herself slowly off the ground. She felt herself blushing when she noticed Arnold staring at her.

"Let me help you," Arnold said, coming to her aid.

"No, it's fine," Helga said, "I'm almost all the way up."

"Helga, I insist," Arnold said, giving her a soft smile as he grabbed her right hand, which was still on the outside of the boardinghouse. While holding her hand, he held onto her left shoulder and told her to continue sliding up the wall slowly before stepping away from it. As Arnold pulled Helga tenderly away from the wall, she kept her left arm wrapped around the girth of her stomach, hoping Arnold wouldn't see it. When he pulled, however, she tripped slightly, and her left arm fell, leaving her stomach exposed.

"I'm sorry!" Arnold exclaimed, grabbing both her hands as he helped her up, "I didn't mean to make you trip – "

He looked at her and paused, his face deeply troubled.

"_Helga."_

"It's – it's nothing. Really," Helga insisted as she released her hands from his grip and pulled away from him, "Nothing."

"_Helga, who did this to you?"_ Arnold demanded. _"What kind of sick person – "_

"It's none of your beeswax, Bucko!" Helga snapped, as she let her emotions get the best of her, "It's really not a big deal!"

"_But Helga – "_

"_Just leave me alone,"_ she snarled, turning her back on him. _"JUST LEAVE!"_ she shouted, as she walked away from him as fast as she possibly could, not bothering to look back.

Upon exiting the alleyway, she stumbled on the pavement, finding herself on her hands and knees. Taking out her locket and clutching it to her, tears pricked Helga's eyes and coursed down her cheeks, falling onto the sidewalk.

Ignoring the fact that many people walked past her and were staring at her either with curiosity or disdain, she held her locket close to her, lamenting the way she acted toward Arnold. Looking down into Arnold's nine-year-old face, she asked herself, "What have I done?"

**IV**

"_He's here?"_ Whitney asked, a look of shock apparent on her face, "He's actually _here?"_

"Yeah," Helga sighed, her voice subdued as she finished off the final bite of her brownie sundae, placing the spoon she ate it with into the now empty bowl. "He knows I'm pregnant."

"Does he know everything?"

"_Not everything,"_ the young blonde mumbled, looking downward at her locket.

"Are you going to talk to him about it?" Whitney inquired, taking the bowl and spoon, handing it off to one of the waiters to place in the back. "He deserves to know the truth, Helga."

"I was thinking of bringing it up during my session with Doctor Bliss today," the young, troubled woman answered in a morose voice. Looking up at the clock that hung over the counter, she said, "It's almost time for my appointment."

"Do you want me to take you?" Whitney asked. "My workday's up in a few minutes, and from here, I have to go into the city for my classes on Lighting Techniques and Photojournalism. I have no problem giving you a ride to your appointment with Doctor Bliss."

"Really?" Helga asked, smiling up at the young waitress in gratitude.

"Really," Whitney smiled. "Let me get my keys and we'll be off." Walking to the back of the kitchen, where she got her keys, and slid her time card through the slot, her boss, Mr. Antoine Slausen, the owner, and great-great-great grandson of the founder Lawrence Slausen, approached her. He had a head full of thick, white hair, large brown eyes, a spectacular handlebar moustache that curled at the ends and was the same color as his hair, and the enigmatic ability to make anybody smile or laugh. Whitney couldn't help but smile and suppress a chuckle when she saw him dressed like the members of the old barbershop quartets, wearing a striped, red, white and blue suit, complete with a khaki colored knickerbonker hat with a red sash attached to it.

"Hello, Whitney," he greeted her, his voice deep and grandfatherly.

"Hi, Mr. Slausen," Whitney said, "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine," her boss replied casually, stroking his moustache. "The question I'm asking _you_ is this: How is your friend doing?"

"Helga?" Whitney asked, slightly alarmed. She had no idea her boss knew about Helga Pataki.

Mr. Slausen chuckled at Whitney's naivety. "It's apparent that you've only been here a little while," he said, smiling just slightly. "Everyone knows the Pataki's in this town, Miss Whitney," Mr. Slausen informed her. "It's impossible _not_ to when her father's damn beeper commercials play on television all the time, typically interrupting my favorite shows."

"I rarely, if ever, watch television, Mr. Slausen," Whitney said. "When I'm not working, I'm in class working toward my Photography degree. When I do have a spare moment, I'd rather use it to read a book or watch a movie as opposed to the television."

"Understandable," Mr. Slausen returned, grinning. Whitney watched as her boss peered out the door of the back kitchen and saw Helga, leaning against the counter, still holding her locket. Both Whitney and Mr. Slausen watched with sadness as a middle-aged couple stared at Helga with disdain when they saw her enlarged abdomen. "I understand your friend has found herself in quite the predicament."

Whitney nodded. "It's all very sad."

"Well," Mr. Slausen said, patting Whitney on the shoulder, "I've heard about you giving her those free brownie sundaes."

The young waitress recoiled slightly when she realized that serving people free food could be what would get her fired.

"It's fine, Whitney," the elderly man assured her. "I've seen what you do whenever she comes in. You're there for her. You help her out, give her advice, and don't pass judgment on her. Unlike my other employees, who only see her for the mess she's gotten herself into, you see her for who she is." He smiled at her. "I'm proud of you, Whitney."

"Thanks, Mr. Slausen," Whitney said in gratitude. "Hearing that really means a lot."

"Your friendship means a lot to Helga," Mr. Slausen informed her. "Keep up the good work, okay?"

"Thank you," Whitney said, as she exited the back kitchen. "Have a good rest of the day!"

"You as well, Whitney," Mr. Slausen said, smiling.

**V**

After Whitney finished conversing with Mr. Slausen, she exited the back kitchen, finding Helga still waiting for her. She looked at the young woman with worry and understanding, but only nodded to her to follow her out to where the vintage Woody she inherited from her late grandfather was parked.

Helga got into the car and smiled. "I love your car," she said, grinning.

Whitney smiled back, hoping this day would get better for her friend.

When they got to the Hillwood Medical center, Whitney turned to Helga and asked, "Do you want me to walk you in?"

"I'll be fine," Helga answered. "Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome," Whitney said. "Anytime you need a ride someplace, I'm always here," she smiled. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Helga answered as she got out of the car. "Bye, Whitney."

Whitney waved to Helga and watched her waddle in through the doors of the Hillwood Medical Center.

"You take care, Helga," she whispered, hoping everything would work out for her friend and that she could continue being apart of the loyal support system she so desperately needed.

**VI**

The next evening at precisely seven in the evening, Mr. Slausen watched from his favorite booth as Whitney walked in, looking exhausted, but ready all the same to work the evening shift and close the ice-cream parlor for the evening. The man knew the young woman had a long day today, attending her classes on Black and White Photography, the History of Photography, Materials and Processes, and Two Dimensional Design. She worked hard, was working hard toward her university education, but always came in with a smile on her face, and was usually in the best mood of all his employees despite the fact that her coworkers had an easier life than she did.

Though Whitney never knew it, she was always a bright spot in Mr. Slausen's day.

"Hello, Mr. Slausen," Whitney greeted him, "What can I get you?"

"Just the usual order," the old man answered, leaning back in his seat, "My great-great-great grandfather's signature banana split. And when you go into the back, look on the table right next to the freezer, will you?"

"Sure thing," Whitney answered, heading toward the back.

Mr. Slausen watched her walk toward the back, smiling.

**VII**

After placing Mr. Slausen's order, Whitney walked to the back table next to the freezer, somewhat baffled that Mr. Slausen asked her to do so.

When she did, she found two five dollar bills and a note from her boss.

"_You take care, Whitney."_

* * *

**Disclaimer:**I do not own the song "I'll Take Of You" with lyrics written by Brook Benton and originally performed by Bobby Bland. I also do not own Van Morrison's cover version of the song. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.

I also do not own the epitaphs, which are taken from Dave Eggers' novels What Is the What and You Shall Know Our Velocity!. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	2. A Family Under Attack

**Chapter II: A Family Under Attack**

_Understand the things I say, don't turn away from me_  
_Because I've spent half my life out there, you wouldn't disagree_  
_Do you see me? Do you see? Do you like me?_  
_Do you like me standing there? Do you notice?_  
_Do you know? Do you see me? Do you see me?_  
_Does anyone care?_

_Understand what I've become, it wasn't my design_  
_And people everywhere think something better than I am_  
_But I miss you, I miss, because I liked it_  
_Because I liked it, when I was out there, do you know this?_  
_Do you know you did not find me? You did not find me_  
_Does anyone care?_

~The Cranberries, "Ode To My Family"~

* * *

**I**

Ignoring the usual looks she received from others inside the Hillwood Medical Center, Helga took the elevator to Doctor Bliss' office, which was on the third floor. Grateful to have the elevator ride to herself, Helga couldn't help but scold herself for being so stupid.

"What were you _THINKING,_ Helga?" she muttered to herself, "Acting that way toward Arnold? He was only being _nice_ to you, and he's concerned for your wellbeing! How could you just blow him off like that?"

Helga wished she could blame the pregnancy hormones, but she knew it was no excuse for her behavior. She lashed out at Arnold on her own accord, and would have to deal with the repercussions, even if it meant he wanted nothing to do with her ever again. Helga wouldn't blame him if that were the case; not only did she have a dysfunctional family, but she was only adding to it by getting pregnant at a young age. It didn't help that her head hadn't been on straight when she'd done it, that the father wasn't a viable choice, and that she had _no_ idea what she was going to do. Helga was just a kid herself, she had _no_ idea how to be a mother, and had no intention of emulating Miriam's parenting skills and following in her footsteps. Looking at her reflection through the elevator doors, the young woman knew she wouldn't blame Arnold if he didn't want to be seen around her. She didn't have that "pregnancy glow" most expecting mothers had about them. Rather, Helga's fair complexion was much paler, with red, blotchy patches all over her face and body. Her cheeks looked unnaturally flushed, and her acne worsened due to the hormone fluctuations she experienced. When she squinted into the clear, elevator doors, she saw with disdain how much weight she'd put on from the pregnancy thus far just by looking at her swollen face. Her body felt heavier – her legs felt like lead, and her growing stomach could be considered a world continent. Lifting up her shirt, she looked down, in despair, at the red and purple stretch marks that cascaded in squiggling lines up and down her widening girth.

Putting her shirt down over her stomach, she remembered with disdain the first time she bought maternity clothes. At that point, only she, Doctor Bliss, and her family knew about the pregnancy. Much to Bob's disappointment, Helga decided not to terminate the pregnancy after counseling with Doctor Bliss over the matter. However, she didn't know what she was going to do and had yet to tell the father of the child they had made growing inside Helga's womb. Helga went by herself, taking the subway from Hillwood to the mall in Hazelnut City so she wouldn't run into anyone she knew; the last thing she wanted was for someone she knew, such as Phoebe, the father, or any of her classmates see her walk into a maternity clothing store. Though Helga knew she wouldn't be able to hide the pregnancy for much longer, it was her intent that others know about it on _her_ terms, and not someone else's.

After reaching the mall, Helga walked around for a bit before spotting _A Pea in the Pod._

Taking a deep breath, Helga walked into the clothing store with its brightly colored walls plastered with posters of supermodel women in maternity clothing. The models' prosthetic stomachs were small and hardly had any affect on their overall, airbrushed bodies. Their wide, laughing smiles showed glistening, whitened teeth. Enhanced make-up, clear, glowing skin, and smooth, lustrous hair, complete with the perfect lightning techniques, enhanced the general look of the posters. As Helga stepped further into _A Pea in the Pod_ with great apprehension, she looked up at the posters and then down at the clothing racks and tables, noticing how lavish the clothes were.

All around her, women with their abashed, blushing husbands in tow selected various blouses, casual tees, designer jeans, dresses, pants, shorts, skirts, and tanks from the clothing racks and tables in front of them. Trying on the clothes in the dressing rooms, and then coming out to model them for their husbands, many of these women complained they were fat even though they hardly showed at all. Looking down at her swelling abdomen, Helga noticed it no longer looked as though she'd put on a few pounds she could lose through exercise and proper dieting. Rather, her stomach was now a small, but distinct, round bump. Her body was officially changing and preparing itself for the duration of her pregnancy, and it started by giving Helga the cruel revelation that she showed more than the grown, _married_ women in the store who complained loudly about their practically non-existent baby bumps.

Helga turned to the various clothing racks and tables in front of her, but couldn't focus. Stepping away from them, the young woman walked around the store, surprised to see that it sold a whole line of "Couture Maternity Wear," along with lingerie. _A Pea in the Pod_ carried entire clothing racks devoted exclusively to active, outer, and sleepwear. There were multiple racks and tables for jackets alone, and an entire selection of the store was devoted to clothing for those who worked in business and other professional environments. In addition to selling clothes, _A Pea in the Pod_ also sold an array of books and journals for parents-to-be, extravagant diaper bags and slings, maternity and nursing pillows, nutritional supplements, skin care products, and various baby toys and other gifts.

Feeling completely overwhelmed, Helga noticed the employees looking at her condescendingly, perhaps wondering what a fifteen-year-old girl was doing in a maternity clothing store. At the same time though, they _had_ to know she was pregnant; after all, her pregnancy was _far_ more obvious than those of the expectant adults who milled about the place.

Choosing to ignore the stares she knew followed her, the young woman returned to the front of the clothing store and surveyed the clothes on the table in front of her. Various clothing items ranging from sizes extra small to extra large sat in front of Helga as if waiting to be bought. Not knowing what to buy, unaware of how much bigger she'd get and how much her body would change over the next six months, she picked up a grey shirt and surveyed the article of clothing. The shirt itself had a cool, edgy pattern, long sleeves, and a pink mandarin collar that reached all the way down to the bust line. Smiling to herself, Helga thought, _"Maybe shopping for maternity clothes won't be so bad after all."_

Her thoughts changed when she saw the price tag. The shirt cost seventy-eight dollars.

Putting the shirt down, Helga sauntered toward the back of the store toward the sale rack, trying to look as casual as possible. She had no luck finding clothes that were on sale. Most of the clothing items were marked down from their original triple digit prices, and Helga didn't want to spend money on clothes she knew she'd most likely outgrow at some point during her pregnancy.

Feeling huge and very much alone, Helga turned away from the sale rack and walked out of _A Pea in the Pod_ feeling thoroughly embarrassed. She spent the rest of the day at the mall trying to find suitable maternity clothes at a good price. It wasn't until the end of the day that Helga found affordable, but nice, maternity clothes in various sizes at a store that was going out of business. The young woman wished her mother and older sister had been able to come with her. Even though Olga was the _last_ person Helga wanted to shop with, her older sister would've at least offered her _some optimism,_ while Miriam would know exactly what clothes she needed to buy. However, when Helga left for Hazelnut City that morning, both Miriam and Olga were already gone. Her mother had gone into work early that day, and Olga was in the big city attending an acting workshop. Bob had been home, watching television in the trophy room when she left, making it clear as ever that she was on her own.

The young woman sighed, attempting to repress the horrible memory and put it behind her. She never cared for shopping before, but was now certain she _hated_ it. She spent all her Christmas money on maternity clothes that day, hoping never to experience another humiliating shopping episode like that again. Surveying her appearance in the elevator, however, Helga knew that she'd have to make _at least_ one additional shopping trip if she wanted clothes that actually fit at the rate her stomach was growing.

"_Look at me,"_ Helga said to herself with a hint of bitterness in her voice, _"Arnold won't want to be seen around Hillwood, running into everyone he knows for the first time in three years with a pregnant teenage cow trailing behind him. What was I_ _**thinking,**_ _deciding to send him that letter?"_ Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, she grabbed hold of the letter, not bothering to take it out. Crumpling up the letter inside her pocket, she took her hand out and sighed, her breath uneven and shaky.

When the elevator door finally opened, Helga stepped out of it and into the hallway, rubbing her itchy eyes with haste. The young woman hadn't been aware that she'd been crying on the ride up to Doctor Bliss' office until she felt the sticky residue of her tears upon her hand.

After walking down the long, lone hallway to Doctor Bliss' office, she noticed the compassionate psychologist's door was open. Letting herself in, the blonde found herself flooded with an ocean of relief.

Since Helga started seeing Doctor Bliss at the age of nine, the psychologist's office became a second home to her. The office hadn't changed at all from the day Helga had her first appointment with her. The room was still large and spacious, but seemed even more so because the window was open, allowing the sunshine to seep in and paint the room with an enchanting light. A large, square, ornate red rug with deep, burgundy swirls and various multi-colored shapes sat in one of the right corners of the room. A long, purple couch and a coffee table with art books on Edward Hopper were placed on top of the rug, and many of the artist's paintings, such as _Nighthawks_ and _Rooms by the Sea_ hung on the walls. Bookshelves filled with numerous works of literature, textbooks, and various biographies and memoirs lined the walls. In addition to her vast book collection, Doctor Bliss kept numerous pictures of family and friends on the shelves. Miniature plants, sculptures, and a gumball machine filled with the delicious, sugary candy varying in several different colors sat on the shelves along with the books. The blow-up clown in the shape of a bowling pin that she took to hitting during her younger years sat in the far right corner, and the dartboard Helga enjoyed shooting darts at still hung on the door. A small, pink rug with purple trimming sat at the foot of the door. Doctor Bliss' desk was at the very back of the office, along with a beige chair and a dark wood, hardback one with a green cushion.

Helga never felt more at home before in her life.

Taking a deep breath, hoping to keep her emotions in control, Helga said, trying to remain calm, "Hi, Doctor Bliss."

"Hello, Helga," Doctor Bliss greeted her kindly, getting up from her desk. She grabbed her clipboard, walked toward Helga and hugged her. "Make yourself comfortable," she told her patient, indicating to the purple couch. "You should probably be resting your feet."

"Thanks," the young girl replied, accepting her psychologist's invitation. She slid onto the purple couch slowly, bringing her legs in toward her. She sat cross-legged on the couch, her expanding stomach in her lap, giving her a slight resemblance to the great Buddha himself.

She stared at Doctor Bliss, hopeful, yearning for the sympathetic woman to be a bright spot in this already horrible day. She hoped the kind woman's advice would make this day better, and not worse.

"_Let the healing begin,"_ Helga thought.

**II**

Doctor Irene Bliss sat across from Helga, peering curiously at her young patient, questions swimming in her mind. She wondered if Helga had been thinking of her child's future as well as her own, and if she'd discussed those thoughts with her parents. She hoped Helga was corresponding with her son's father, and desired that the young man who impregnated her would one day change his mind and take responsibility for his actions. It was her wish that the young woman before her would reach out to him for the sake of their son. Irene knew Helga hated her son's father and didn't speak with him because of his refusal to be involved.

Helga had found herself in a real dilemma that had no easy answers, but Irene was willing to help the young, precocious girl sitting before her, no matter what problems she faced. After all, it had been Helga's astute observations, keen intellect, sharp, witty remarks, spitfire attitude, and the bullying disguise under which she hid her true self from the world that helped draw the psychologist toward the young, troubled girl. Over the years, the woman saw more of the love, passion, and romanticism her patient hid underneath a rough exterior, and hoped that the young girl would one day allow herself to just be.

Since Helga found herself in this troubling quandary, however, Irene noticed the young woman kept this rough exterior up around her, refusing to show her true colors to the world. This worried the child psychologist, and she hoped Helga would let down her bullying act for the sake of her unborn child.

Irene looked at Helga and felt her heart breaking all over again, just like during their last session. The pregnancy was extremely difficult for Helga, both physically and mentally. She bore the exterior scars of pregnancy, including the ones most pregnant women never had to face, such as constant itching, excessive acne, and rashes. In addition to the "extras," Helga also dealt with the typical signs of pregnancy, which were exhaustion, the swelling of her face and joints, weight gain, and the most telling sign of all, an expanding stomach. She carried these physical scars all along with the ones inside her. The young girl was more emotional and prone to crying. She was lost and confused, and on more than one occasion, Irene found herself crying right along with the young patient. The psychologist felt helpless at times, and wondered if everything she was doing to help Helga was effective at all.

Looking into the young girl's blue eyes, which showed the beginnings of dark circles forming beneath them, she noticed, with a twinge of sadness, how red and tired her eyes looked. Exhaling slowly, Irene inquired, "Helga, have you been crying?"

The young woman sighed shakily, looking down into her hands. She nodded, her face contorting itself into a grimace, her mouth falling rapidly into a downward frown. After giving a watery hiccup, she began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh, Helga," the psychologist sighed, getting up from her chair and placing the clipboard upon it. She sat down next to Helga and wrapped her arms around the young girl, rocking her gently as she allowed her to cry.

As she continued holding Helga while she sobbed, the wise psychologist realized that this was not the time to ask Helga questions pertaining to her unborn child, her future, her family life, and the father's obvious lack of involvement. Though Irene wanted to speak with Helga about these pressing issues, feeling that the troubled teenager had been putting off such significant decisions that would have a great affect on her child, she realized something else weighed heavily on the young girl's mind.

"What's the matter, Helga?" Irene asked soothingly, still holding Helga close to her, "You know you can tell me anything."

As Helga released herself from her gentle embrace, she averted her eyes away from the woman, preferring to look downward. Rubbing her eyes in an attempt to get rid of any additional tears that threatened to fall, the young woman looked up, her tear stained face a complicated palette of emotions. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Arnold's back. He's here."

Irene nodded, knowing all too well about Arnold, the young, idealistic, football headed dreamer who captured Helga's attention and won her love at the young age of three. Though Helga was sent in for counseling by her elementary school principal for her tendency to punch her classmate Brainy, just for seemingly standing behind her, breathing, albeit loudly, it'd been the fact that she went out of her way to pick on Arnold, call him "Football Head," and throw spitballs at him during class that captured the psychologist's interest more than the former.

Starting with Helga's first session with her, Arnold had always been a topic of conversation.

Irene herself had been the first person Helga told of her true feelings for her classmate. She was the first to hear the profound shocking declaration of truth in the open after it'd been building for "a while." She helped Helga sort through her anger and confusion after the young girl told Arnold she loved him and wondered why he wasn't giving her any answers. When the young girl returned from a class field trip to the jungles of San Lorenzo, she walked on cloud nine over the course of several sessions with her psychologist. Helga had been radiant, knowing her feelings for Arnold were reciprocated. Irene looked back on those particular sessions with fondness, glad to see Helga _happy_ for the _first time_ in her life.

When the bliss stage ended along with Helga's relationship with Arnold, she helped the young girl work through the break-up. She talked with Helga about the feelings she still harbored for Arnold and encouraged her to continue writing and use it as a good way to release any pent-up feelings or resentment. In addition, she told Helga to continue her friendship with Arnold and to continue being open with him like she was during their whirlwind courtship. Doctor Bliss was also there to help comfort Helga when he moved away, and she often told Helga that she should mail the letters she wrote to him, but knew she couldn't force the matter. However, Helga _did_ want to mail the letters to Arnold, especially since he wrote to her, but just couldn't do it. During their sessions, the two discussed what was holding Helga back, and Irene tried to help her young patient send a letter to her beloved, but to no avail.

Looking at Helga, Irene said, "I assume he knows you're expecting?"

Helga looked down and nodded sadly.

"How did it go?" she asked softly.

The young girl looked up, the tears still falling freely from her eyes and down her cheeks, and answered, "Not well." She hugged her psychologist close to her and refused to let go.

Returning the young girl's hug, Irene looked at Helga worriedly, reminding her all too well of another visit with results that were far from ideal, and the single decision that triggered them.

**III**

Upon learning of Helga's pregnancy, the psychologist knew the girl was in for a long road filled with major tribulation and many important decisions to be made. She recalled seeing the young girl walk out of the examination room, her face as white as a sheet, her hands clutching various leaflets about teenage pregnancy and the options available to her. She watched as Helga broke down in the middle of the waiting room, falling into a heap on the floor as silent tears fell from her blue eyes and slid down her cheeks. Irene rushed to Helga's aid, helped her up, and hugged the poor girl close to her.

"I have my ultrasound scheduled for next week," the girl whispered into her ear.

The psychologist nodded, wanting so desperately to cry for the girl, but knew she needed to remain strong for her.

She realized that Helga wouldn't know how far along she was until she received her ultrasound. However, during the subsequent appointments, Helga brought up her struggles and thoughts over whether or not to terminate her pregnancy.

"I won't know how far along I am or have a due date until I get my ultrasound," the young girl told her psychologist, facing the open window. "The kid inside me could be the size of a sea monkey for all I know! Plus, who's to say when life _really_ begins?"

Irene nodded, looking over the pages of her notes and findings on the various stages of pregnancy, along with some research on abortion and the process one had to go through before having the procedure done. "Helga, when do you think you conceived this child? Can you give me an approximate date or time?"

Helga turned to her, her face deep in thought. She looked toward the ceiling and sighed before looking downward. "I… we… we did it in November. It's February now."

"You're probably three months along at this point, Helga," she informed her patient knowingly. "That puts you in the second trimester."

The young woman nodded as she continued pacing the room. She walked toward the bookshelf and took two gumballs from the miniature machine. Popping them into her mouth, she said, "I've done some readings online and in some books I got from the library about abortion, and it seems like getting a second trimester abortion is a bit more… complicated."

Looking up at Helga from where she was reading over her notes, Irene was impressed with the young woman's maturity and capability to do her own research on the matter. "They can be," she remarked, thinking back to her senior year of university, when one of her good friends nearly died on the operating table after receiving a second trimester abortion. "The procedure itself is much more complex, and some facilities require that you stay overnight either before, or after the abortion itself takes place. Additionally, there's a lot of paperwork to fill out on your medical history, numerous information sheets, consent forms, and you'll have to provide your health insurance along with a valid identification."

"I doubt my school I.D. would work," Helga said quietly, looking down.

"It depends on the facility," the psychologist replied, "And on the clinic and state laws." Looking at Helga, she continued, "Some facilities, depending on where they're located, have to abide by the laws of the state. It varies by location, but some clinics require that you have an adult accompany you to your appointment. In addition, such facilities will only perform an abortion if the adult escorting you to is your _parent._ These clinics require that your mother and father give their consent and fill out a whole slew of paperwork of their own before you can terminate a pregnancy."

"You're the only one who knows I'm pregnant," Helga told her. "I… I needed a few days for it to sink in." She returned to the window and looked out at the view momentarily before turning back to face her. "If I keep this kid, it'll change _everything._ If I did, Bob would never let me live it down."

Irene got up from her desk and stood next to Helga. Placing her hand onto the young girl's shoulder, she said, "This isn't about your father, Helga. Whether or not you should terminate this pregnancy isn't _his_ choice. This is a decision only _you_ can make."

The young girl sighed, her blue eyes swimming in pools of doubt and fear. "I… I've been thinking about this since the day I found out I was pregnant." She walked circles around the room before opting to sit on the purple couch. "When I'm not here or at school, I'm at the library doing research on this. I've listed the pros and cons so many times it's not even funny. It's like… if I do get an abortion, just get it done with without having to stay overnight or have Bob and Miriam approve of it, I can just pretend this whole pregnancy never happened. No one else would have to know about it…. not even the father."

"The closest clinics are in Arouet County and Hazelnut City," Irene informed her client. "In order to receive an abortion at these facilities, it is required that you have your parents' permission. One, or both of your parents, must accompany you to your appointment and provide accurate identification of themselves. As you're already aware in such cases, they have to sign your consent forms and fill out paperwork of _their_ own. When your parents sign the consent forms and agree to the terms listed in _their_ paperwork, they're giving their complete permission for the doctors to do what they think is necessary to terminate your pregnancy in the safest possible way."

"There goes _that_ plan," Helga muttered, "Unless…" she looked up and eyed her psychologist.

"Helga, I know what you're thinking, and I'm _not_ doing that. I'm your _psychologist,_ not your _parent,_ and if I acted as such, I would be overstepping _so_ many boundaries."

Exhaling slowly, Helga admitted, "You're right… I'm sorry I even thought to do that."

Sitting in the beige chair across from the couch, Irene told Helga, "I'm glad to know you've been doing your own research concerning this matter." She motioned for the young woman to sit in the hardback chair next to her and asked, "What are your reasons for wanting an abortion?"

Helga looked down and said softly, "I'm in no position to be a mother. I'll only be turning fifteen next month, and most places won't let you work until you're sixteen… I wouldn't be able to provide for the kid. Plus, I hate the idea of raising it in the household I'm currently living in now. Bob's _still_ a complete workaholic blowhard, and Miriam works all day just to stay away from him. She's attending AA meetings, and I guess that's helped her, but she hates coming home… not that I blame her. When she _is_ home, she's doing everything she can to avoid Bob's wrath." She looked at Irene pointedly and said, "_Don't_ even get me started on Olga… she'd probably turn the kid into a total nut job if I left it alone with her."

Irene smiled wanly at her young patient while taking notes on her reasoning.

"Why else?" she inquired.

"Well, there's the fact that the world's so screwed up and only bound to get worse," the young girl said cynically. "The _last_ thing I want to do is bring a kid into a world that's only going downhill."

"Interesting observation, Helga," Irene said. "There are many people today who find that times are only getting more perilous. What makes you think that?"

"A lot of things," Helga answered, the cynicism still apparent in her voice. "The media's horrible, with how everyone always has to know who's dating who, and who's wearing what, and who made out with that person while dating someone else… people are so materialistic now too, caring only about the outward appearance and not on what's inside the heart. People gossip, slander, and take things out of context, not caring about how it affects others and knowing fully well that people's lives are destroyed because of it. Politicians all over the world are becoming more corrupt everyday, and sometimes I fear our individuality is at stake. Families are under attack – there are more houses, but less homes." Laughing bitterly, she said, "My family is the epitome of that. My family lost _that_ battle a long time ago."

Irene pursed her lips and said, "Helga, there's still a lot of good in the world."

"You sound like Arnold," the troubled girl replied, with the trace of a faint smile upon her face.

"Do you have any other reasons as to why an abortion would best for all involved?"

The young woman looked away, her facial expression grim. "I… I don't want to be like Miriam," she said quietly, as the tears started falling again. "She… she's never really been there for me or involved in my life. I… I don't have a good relationship with her like my friends do with _their_ moms… _Arnold's_ mom is better than mine too. When she was missing in the jungle for all those years, she did everything she could to get back to him, and even when all the attempts failed, she never gave up.

"Miriam's not… really like that. She probably wouldn't even _know_ she was missing and that people were looking for her, wondering where she was if that were the case. If she _were_ missing in some jungle somewhere, she wouldn't try to get back. She's… so impassive, and it took her _forever_ to realize she had a drinking problem. She drank for as long as I can remember."

Wiping her eyes, she said, "I don't want to be like that. I don't want my kid to grow up hating me. I don't want to be a bad mom."

The psychologist looked at Helga, astounded at her young patient's insightful wisdom and at how quickly she'd grown up since learning of her pregnancy. She knew Helga was in distress over what to do. The fact that she only thought of her unborn child and worried over whether or not she could raise it right was a true testament to the young girl's selflessness and the knowledge that she put a great deal of thought into the pivotal decision. The irony of the whole situation was that Helga already placed the needs of her child before her own in spite of her endless debating over whether or not to kill it.

Taking a deep breath, Irene said, "This is the most profound, thought provoking session I've ever sat in on."

"What makes you say that?" Helga grumbled, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Helga, you've presented quite a loaded paradox to me," Irene informed her patient. "The way you've presented yourself and your perspective of the issue at hand shows your vast maturity and how seriously you're taking the subject at hand. You've actually _thought through_ your reasons as to why you should receive an abortion, yet in doing so, you've thought only of your child, and not of how the procedure would affect _you,_ should you choose to have it. When you told me the reasons why you found the termination of the pregnancy to be the most practical result, never did you talk about how keeping the child would set you back. Through your thoughts and your words, you've proven yourself to be a _real_ grown-up." She smiled at the young girl just slightly and said, "I know of many adults who could learn a few things from you."

The young woman frowned and looked away.

"Even though getting an abortion seems to be the more probable choice, I _have_ thought about keeping it," she sighed. She returned her gaze and said, "Crazy, I know. It's crazy that I want to keep it even though there are so many reasons for me _not_ to."

"It's not crazy, Helga," Irene assured her, "It's natural. You feel a deep connection with your child and don't want to let it go." Looking down at her clipboard, and then back up again, she asked, "Why do you want to keep your child, Helga? You've given me all these reasons as to why you should have an abortion, but have you thought about the alternative – the fact that you can let this child live, but make sure it still has a good life?"

Getting up from her chair, the young girl said, "If I do keep the kid… it'll be the _only_ person actually… _love_ me. I don't want to give that up."

Irene sighed, knowing the poor girl not only suffered from neglect, but also felt unloved and unwanted by her own family. Helga loved Arnold since her toddler days, but was certain his love for her died after they ended their turbulent romance.

"Helga," she said, trying to comfort the troubled teenager standing before her, "You know what you're saying isn't true."

"_How would_ _**you**_ _know?"_

Doctor Bliss paused before speaking again. "I'm sure your family _does_ love you, and that your parents and sister _do_ mean well. It just doesn't transfer over right."

The young girl snorted, trying to keep the pessimistic laugh she knew was building from escaping her lips. She glared at her, as if she was daring her to say more, but Irene knew the girl was crumbling on the inside.

"If I get rid of this baby… of this _person_ growing inside of me," she said, sitting back down on the chair, placing her hands gently onto her stomach, "I'll be giving up the _only_ other chance I'll _ever_ have of being loved."

Irene nodded in understanding, hoping the young girl would give just as much thought into keeping the child and the options that went with it like she had taken the time to think through the abortion issue.

"But Helga," she said, "You said that if you kept this child, that it might grow up to hate you."

"That's the thing, though," Helga said, "It would hate me if I became like my own parents. If the child was just like me… I'd understand it. I could help it out… we'd get each other. If that were the case, if I got rid of this child, I'd be giving away my only ally."

The psychologist looked at her patient and said, "Helga, raising a child takes _a lot_ of responsibility, especially for someone at your age."

"I know my argument's faulty," Helga groaned, "But I want to be loved."

**IV**

When the young girl came in for her first appointment during the following week, Irene was surprised to see a large smile apparent on her face.

She watched as Helga walked to her desk with a certain, happy bounce accompanying it. The teenager held up a piece of paper close to her psychologist's face and announced, "I had my ultrasound today."

The psychologist took the paper containing numerous ultrasounds of the baby from varying angles out of Helga's hands and surveyed it, giving her patient a brief smile.

"See?" Helga asked, placing her right pointer finger on one of the ultrasounds, "That's the baby's head."

"I'm assuming the appointment went well then?" Irene said.

The young girl nodded. "I'm thirteen weeks along… due on August thirty-first."

"Are you going to keep the child?"

Helga looked at her psychologist shyly and gave her a coy smile. "It's… irrational. I know. But when I heard the heartbeat, I knew at that moment I couldn't go through with an abortion. When I actually _saw_ my child on the screen, I realized I couldn't let it go."

Nodding slowly, Irene returned the paper to Helga and said, "You know what you have to do, right?"

Helga's smile hardened, falling into a thin, straight line. Looking into the psychologist's eyes, she asked, "Will you be there with me when I tell them?"

**V**

"They should be here," Helga said, her voice shaking with nervousness. "They said they'd be here." Sitting on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, she looked up at her psychologist and said, "Thanks for doing this… for helping me."

The knowing psychologist nodded from her chair. "I'm happy to be of help," she told the teenager sitting across from her. Irene looked up at the clock and wondered where Helga's family actually was. According to Helga's panicked outbursts, they were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

Over the years, Helga never had any well-intentioned words for her family. She described her father Bob, the well-known beeper king as a man who ran his house and business with a deep, vice-like grip on those around him; and despite the man's apparent want to always be in charge and the absolute best at everything he did, he could be flaccid when he wanted to be, allowing himself to pass out in front of the television with either "The Wheel" or a wrestling match playing well into the early hours of the morning.

Miriam, her mother, was someone who Irene saw as having an unlimited amount of potential and the ability to do great things, but who let her aggressive husband hold her back. The psychologist knew Helga's mother was intelligent and could accomplish anything she set her mind to, and often speculated that the woman took up drinking as a way to deal with, and keep her head up in a loveless marriage, sometimes being too willing to forget her troubles and sacrifice her daughter's well-being in the process. In her more recent sessions with Helga, however, Irene had to applaud the young girl's mother for her choice to admit she had a problem and turn her life around. It was sad how Bob still saw the need to keep alcohol in the house when his wife was only trying to get better.

"_Maybe I'll refer Mrs. Pataki to someone who can help her,"_ the psychologist thought to herself, taking another peek at the clock.

An additional five minutes had passed.

Irene turned to Helga and asked, "Is your sister coming?"

"Olga?" Helga said. "She'll be here… but trust me, you'll either find her perfection highly amusing, or you'll think she's psycho."

"I'm sure she's not _that_ bad," the psychologist chuckled, "_Nobody's_ perfect, Helga. You know that." She wondered if Olga and Mr. Pataki were still on speaking terms since their falling out.

"_She is,"_ The young girl shrugged before returning to her thoughts. "Sure, she's not getting any work now, but you mark my words: The moment she gets a part in a play or musical, Bob will be all over her again."

Irene sighed and looked at the additional three chairs she'd set up, sitting in the space between her own chair and the purple couch Helga sat upon. She hoped the teenager's family would show up and actually care about what their daughter was about to tell them, since the news would change the dynamics of their family forever.

A loud, thunderous knock from the outside jolted both the psychologist and Helga back to reality. Regaining her composure and smiling dryly and Helga's pronouncement of _"Here we go,"_ Irene stood up and walked to the couch.

"It's going to be okay, Helga," she reassured her. "If… things don't go over well with your parents and sister, you know I'll be here, right?"

Helga nodded and jerked her head toward the door. _"Can we just get this over with?"_ she asked, exasperated.

Irene nodded, walked toward the door, and answered it to three people standing before her, instantly recognizing certain traces in Helga, such as eye and hair color, and facial features, in them.

"Why don't you come in?" she said, smiling, letting them in before her.

Upon shutting the door, the psychologist saw that Helga's family already sat in the chairs she'd provided. Surveying the three people sitting down, her eyes first fell on Helga's father, the man from whom the young girl inherited much of her physical appearance. He was a large imposing man with a heavy frame, grey hair with faint, streaks of blonde still hidden beneath it, a thick monobrow, and dull, blue-grey eyes void of any life. His mouth was a thin, straight line and he looked utterly bored. His wife, Helga's mother, sat next to him. She had blonde hair that reached to her mid-neck, and the ends were askew and appeared to be fried. Like her husband, her blue eyes, which were hidden behind thick, square glasses, were void of any emotion. She looked tired and frazzled, and she cracked her knuckles as a way to keep busy. The psychologist turned and noticed that the sickening, splinting sound made her patient recoil just slightly away from the presence of her family.

"Hello," she greeted them, holding out her hand. "I'm Doctor Irene Bliss, Helga's psychologist. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"So _you're_ the shrink my daughter's been seeing for the past few years," Bob grunted, his hold on her had hard and seemingly crushing her fingers.

"Mr. Pataki," Irene returned, releasing her hand from his grip, "I've truly enjoyed the opportunity I've had to counsel with your daughter. She's bright, observant, and a deep thinker."

"Yeah, whatever," the despondent man muttered. "Will this take a long time? I have a beeper emporium to run."

"_It will take,"_ the psychologist said, her voice turning cold, _"As long as it needs to take."_

Turning to his wife, she shook her and exchanged greetings with the barely there, exhausted woman before turning to face Helga's older sister.

Olga Pataki's large blue eyes were wide with an odd sort of brightness and curiosity to them. Her smile was too big and flashy for her face, and she wore a vintage, plaid green dress that fell to her knees and did _too_ good of a job in enhancing her figure. Her blonde hair was cut into a short bob at the nape of her neck, and her peach skin was perfect and free of any blemishes. The psychologist remembered Helga's very first visit, when the young girl claimed that all the boys wanted to date her older sister. Irene could see why.

"Hello, Doctor Bliss," Olga said, her voice light and airy as she took the psychologist's hand and shook it. "It's such a pleasure to meet you!"

The psychologist smiled and returned the blithe salutation, before turning to Helga, who stared back at her knowingly, the look on her face reading, _"I told you so."_

She suppressed a laugh and returned to her seat. "I'm sure you're all wondering why Helga asked you to come today."

"_No kidding,"_ Mr. Pataki muttered, eyeing the clock ticking away above him, while his wife remained antsy, and his older daughter sat on the edge of her seat, as if eager to get up from her seat and dance around the room.

"Before we begin," she said, "I want you to know that Helga is truly a joy to converse with. These past years have been great for the both of us, and I've loved being able to watch Helga grow and learn from her experiences in life."

"Cut to the chase," Bob said, his voice apathetic. "What's going on here?"

"Well," she breathed deeply, "Helga has something she'd like to tell you."

The young girl sighed as she obtained the paper containing her ultrasounds on it. Giving Doctor Bliss a disparaging glance, she slowly made her way off the couch and walked toward her family, holding the paper for them to see.

The psychologist watched as Helga's father squinted at the paper before taking it out of her hands. _"Helga, what are these?"_ he demanded. _"__**Please**_ _tell me this is a sick joke."_

"It's not," Helga replied. "I really _am_ pregnant."

Mr. Pataki looked up at his daughter, stunned.

Then, his face contorted into an angry, raging grimace as he stood up and threw the paper onto his wife's lap.

"_WHAT?"_ he shouted. _"WHO'S THE_ _**FATHER?**__"_ he screamed into his daughter's face thunderously, _**"I'M GOING TO CASTRATE HIM!"**_

"Mr. Pataki, please try to remain calm – " Irene interjected, but Helga stopped her.

"Dad," Helga said, trying to calm her father down, "He doesn't know yet. I wanted to tell you, Mom, and Olga first."

"_Are you going to get rid of it?"_ Bob inquired, his voice dripping with fury. _"You have to._ _**That child will ruin your life if you keep it.**_"

"I'm not getting rid of it," Helga said quietly, folding her arms. "I'm due at the end of August. I'm already three months into this."

"_What are we going to do with you? With it?"_ Bob snarled, _"I can't have a bastard grandchild on the way and running around! Not when I'm running the largest business in all of Hillwood!"_

"Is that all you care about?" Helga asked coolly, "Your business?"

Bob glared at his daughter, still fuming, as Olga stood up and tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"Daddy," Olga said, "I'm sure having a grandchild to love and spoil won't be too bad! I'm sure Baby Sister will be a wonderful mother if you give her the chance."

Ignoring his oldest daughter's comment, Mr. Pataki spat, _"I doubt you even_ _**thought through**_ _this __properly when you decided to keep the bastard. You_ _**obviously**_ _weren't_ _**thinking**_ _when you got yourself into this mess!"_

"_Mr. Pataki, please calm down!"_ Irene said, her voice firm. "And _please_ sit down," she said, looking from Helga's father to her older sister, her eyes and entire stance now authoritative and ready to take charge.

After the two of them sat down, she informed them, "Contrary to your beliefs, Mr. Pataki, Helga _did_ think through her decision over whether or not to terminate the pregnancy. She put a lot of intelligent thought into why she should terminate the pregnancy, were she to do so, and spent a lot of time counseling with me over whether or not she was making the right decision.

"This was a decision that _only Helga_ could make. No one else could make it for her. You're probably wondering why your daughter has chosen to keep the child, and it is simply because she felt a bond with it that she didn't want to let go of. When she heard the child's heartbeat, Mr. Pataki, she realized that she couldn't kill it.

"Your daughter has _a lot_ of big decisions coming up, and it would be best that you, your wife, and Olga, support her through them. I would also like to meet with Helga for _three_ days a week now instead of just two so she can know of, and receive all the help available to her in making these vital decisions."

Mr. Pataki nodded and asked his daughter, "Do you plan on telling the father anytime soon?"

She nodded, and asked, "Do you still want to know who he is?"

Her father grunted, rolling his eyes, and said, "Yes, I'd like to know who the _monster_ is that knocked you up."

When Helga gave her reply, Bob swore loudly, standing up from his chair, knocking it over in the process. Taking the paper containing the ultrasounds from his wife's grasp, he ripped it in half and let the pieces fall onto the ground.

"**OF** _**ALL**_ **PEOPLE, HELGA!"** he roared angrily, **"YOU HAD SEX WITH – "**

"_Mr. Pataki,_ _**please,**_ _stop this right now!"_ Irene said, ready to scream at the man.

He glowered at her, and then at his daughter. He said to her, his voice low, _"Since you're keeping the bastard, you better hope to God the father will stick around, because you're on your own if he doesn't."_

Much to the psychologist's surprise, as well as Helga's, Miriam Pataki stood up and faced her husband.

"You're _not_ kicking her out," she snarled. "I've made mistakes and have let you keep me back, but I'm putting my foot down here. We're _not_ going to abandon our child when she needs us."

Bob looked at his wife in shock and countered, "Why not? The little bastard's going to ruin business! Beeper commercials air on television all the time and everyone in Hillwood knows us! If this gets out, Miriam…"

"Business and children are _completely_ unrelated," his wife said coldly. "What does your grandchild have to do with how your run the beeper store? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be at work in a half and hour."

Turning toward her, she shook her hand and said, "It was very nice to meet you," before turning to her daughter, touching her on the shoulder gently and leaving the room.

Irene watched as Helga looked at the door, then at her father and sister, and then at her, in complete astonishment.

"_Fine,"_ Bob spat at his youngest daughter from where he sat, "You'll get to stay, but no more promotions and publicity events for you, Missy. That kid of yours is _not_ cramping my style."

"It's not like I ever go to those events with you anyway, Bob," Helga muttered under her breath.

"I can't believe you're going to be a _mommy,_ Baby Sister!" Olga exclaimed excitedly, hugging her younger sister close to her. "This will be so much fun, shopping for all the cute baby clothes and accessories with you!"

Helga rolled her eyes and said, " Thanks for coming by."

"Do you still have a session with her?" her father asked, all while eyeing the psychologist.

"Yes, Dad. I'll be fine."

He nodded and stomped out the door, muttering under his breath, _"The next time I see that asshole, __I'm going to come after him with a knife and cut off his man parts."_ Olga followed her father out the door, seemingly choosing to ignore her father's auspicious comment.

After watching them walk out the door, Helga turned to her psychologist, her mouth gaping open in shock.

**VI**

Irene sighed, still remembering all the contention that erupted when Helga gave her family the revelation that she was expecting. The psychologist had been impressed, though surprised, by Mrs. Pataki's affirmative action by refusing to let her husband abandon their daughter and throw her out on the streets. However, it appeared that her husband had retaliated by buying enough beer to fill an entire entertainment center with, as if taunting his wife with the addictive, potentially poisonous drink. This caused Mrs. Pataki to take on more hours at work, and though she made strides at the television station she worked at, she was unable to make them at home, where they were most needed.

Looking down at Helga, she knew the young girl was disappointed in her family and felt that they had let her down. They had, in so many ways, but did so even more by making Helga go through this ordeal on her own.

She knew she needed to have a long overdue conversation with them concerning the matter, but at the moment, Helga's wellbeing was the psychologist's first priority.

"Do you want to tell me what happened, Helga?" Irene asked.

She watched as the young girl pulled away and resumed sitting cross-legged on the couch. Looking down at her burgeoning stomach, she said, "When I ran into him, I tried, and failed, to hide my pregnancy. He asked me who would do… _this_ to me… he's under the impression that I was an unwilling victim when it happened."

Irene nodded, knowing that Arnold always and on occasion, _only_ saw the good in people. Sometimes he did this against his better judgment, and it had gotten him into trouble before. For this reason, the psychologist figured that Arnold would be under the assumption that Helga became pregnant against her will.

"We both know that I did the deed all too willingly," Helga said, her voice tinted with bitterness. "I just… I just don't want to tell Arnold that. I don't want him to see me as being stupid and classless for getting myself into this situation… because that's _exactly_ the way I was acting when I did it. It just… _happened._"

"Arnold's a good person Helga," Irene reassured her, "He never thought you were stupid then, and he won't think so now. Arnold isn't judgmental, but he _does_ deserve to know the truth. You owe him your honesty."

"That's what Whitney told me," Helga replied, still looking downward.

Irene smiled, knowing that the young, down-to-earth waitress had been a true friend to Helga and someone with whom the young girl could feel close and speak freely since feeling isolated from those she'd grown up with and associated with during the school year.

"Do you still love him, Helga?"

Helga smirked at herself and answered, "Yeah." Looking up, she said, "You know that better than anyone else."

"Since you still love him, Helga, I believe your course of action is clear."

The young girl breathed in deeply and nodded. "He _does_ deserve to know the truth… but you… you don't think he'll _look down_ on me because of it, do you?"

"No, I don't, Helga," the psychologist told the young girl, "But if he does, then you know not to waste you time on him. However, you'll never know how he'll feel about the full situation unless you're honest with him concerning your predicament."

Helga nodded and admitted. "You're right… about everything." Looking up, she said, "Thanks for this… for everything."

"I'm here to help you," Irene returned. "You know that if you need to talk or see me outside of our appointed times, that you can do so."

The young girl gave her a small smile, got up from the couch, and stretched her limbs.

"I guess it's time, then," she said. "I just hope I come out of this alive."

"You will, Helga," Irene responded. "I'm sure Arnold will be more than willing to offer you his friendship and support if you just tell him the truth."

Helga turned to her and gave her a quick hug and wave before leaving.

The psychologist walked to the window and watched as Helga exited the medical center, making her way down the sidewalk.

She really hoped things would end well for the conflicted teenager and that she would begin formulating a plan pertaining to her future, as well as the future of her child.

She hoped Helga would reconcile with the child's father and that her family would step up and help her out. Irene knew she would have to encourage this, but she wished it would've happened a long time ago. Sadly, that was not the case.

And she longed for everything to go well when Helga told Arnold the truth.

**VII**

Helga walked out of the Hillwood Medical Center and began the walk to Arnold's house. She hoped Arnold would be the only one home when she finally got there. She didn't want his parents, grandparents, and the boarders to see her like this.

Better yet, maybe Arnold wouldn't be home at all, and Helga could just forget the whole thing and stay holed up in her room the entire summer until he left for some other country to resume the humanitarian work he performed with his parents.

Helga shook her head, releasing the thought from her mind. If she did that, she would go insane.

More importantly, it wouldn't be fair to him.

He deserved to know the truth more than anyone.

As she continued walking, she couldn't help but think of how much her life had changed so drastically. Not only did she look and feel different, but she thought differently, too. She no longer watched wrestling and now found the sport completely barbaric; she wondered if the hatred for the sport would go away once her son was born or if the loathing would still remain. She was still intimidating and still a tomboy, but recently, she found herself more entranced by the loving, softer side of herself that she worked so hard to hide.

It wasn't long before the young woman found herself entranced by the cosmetics aisle in the Corner Store, wrote more flowery and lyrical poetry than ever, and cast aside her comic books for the works of Jane Austen, Charlotte Bronte, and the classic literature written during the Romantic and Victorian time periods. She now cried when watching movies, developed a soft spot for chick flicks, and now watched nothing but the BBC miniseries and movies adapted from the works of Jane Austen. Helga's personal favorite was Anthony Trollope's _The Way We Live Now_, the satirical Victorian novel about financial scandals and complex, tangled love lives that somehow connected all the characters to each other. She loved the miniseries as well, and took to picturing herself as Henrietta Carbury, the intelligent young woman kept back by her own family, and Arnold as Paul Montague, the young, handsome, smart, successful career man, also held back by certain obligations.

Like Henrietta and Paul found love in the end, Helga hoped that she would find love with Arnold… again, even though she knew the thought itself was a foolish one that had held no promise of coming true.

In spite of her softer side, her strange liking for it, and the fact that it was coming out more and more with each progressing day of her pregnancy, and thus, becoming harder to hide, she still hid it anyway. She didn't want to be seen as fragile when she was in the most vulnerable position of her life.

She continued walking, part of her hoping that Arnold wouldn't be home, but at the same time, wanting to see him again. She wanted so badly to stare into his vibrant green eyes and take in the fitness of his body, and take him up on his offer to walk her home and lend an ear when she needed someone to talk to, just like the days of their frenzied courtship.

Upon approaching the crosswalk, still lost in her dreams of pretending to be Henrietta to Arnold's Paul, and half-praying that he wouldn't be home while wishing he were at the same time, she didn't see or hear her friend Phoebe Heyerdahl approach her from behind.

"Konichiwa, Helga!" the girl exclaimed, making the girl jump.

"Hey Pheebs," Helga said, still jarred from her friend's unexpected greeting, "English… _please._"

The young, Japanese-American teenager nodded and said, "How has your first day of summer been thus far?"

"It's okay," Helga shrugged as the light signaled for the two friends to walk across the street. "I just got back from my appointment with Doctor Bliss."

Phoebe nodded. "How did it go? Have you talked to – "

"The appointment was fine, and _no,_ I haven't talked to him," Helga said icily.

"He's not 'exactly' the first person on the list of people I'm dying to converse with."

"But shouldn't he be? For the sake of your son?"

"Pheebs… please. Not now."

She watched as her friend nodded and got her cell phone out of her pocket, looking at it briefly before putting it back. Helga suspected Phoebe had just received a text message from Gerald, and couldn't help but feel a little envious. In contrast with her courtship with Arnold's, Gerald and Phoebe's was mellow and lacked the tension that hers and Arnold's had.

Phoebe and Gerald were so cute together, and sometimes, it made Helga sick. They fit together so perfectly, and could always be seen smiling at each other, holding hands or giving each other subtle, but albeit loving, hugs, kisses, and other low key displays of intimacy for all to see.

Helga looked at her friend, and noticed how much she'd blossomed over the years. She was taller now with a slender figure, and her thick, straight, raven hair fell to her shoulders with a glossy sort of elegance to it. She still wore glasses, but the frames were now considerably smaller, rimless, and framed her oval face and delicate features beautifully.

Though Helga never liked Gerald more beyond a sort of forced friendship that came with her best friend dating him and her then-boyfriend being best friends with him since childhood, she gathered that the tall, African American boy with full, curly black hair, warm skin and eyes, his body, the peak of physical perfection, combined with an easygoing personality and underrated sort of charm, had several girls turning heads whenever he walked by.

Their courtship was flawless and it wasn't fair.

"Helga?"

"Oh… yeah?" she asked, bringing herself back to reality.

"You know Ice Cream's back, right?"

Helga smiled slightly and laughed at the fact that she and Phoebe still referred to Arnold as "Ice Cream," which was the nickname they coined for him in the fourth grade. Helga called Arnold "Ice Cream" whenever she referred to the football headed boy she loved, but at the same time, enjoyed tormenting. The habit carried on even when she and Arnold dated, and had yet to die.

Knowing that the two still did this and that it was one of the things that hadn't changed in their friendship and in the expectant teenager's life made Helga smile.

"Yeah, I heard," Helga said. "I was just heading over to see him," she lied, not yet wanting Phoebe to know of her disastrous encounter with him.

Noticing that Phoebe had her phone out again, she asked, trying to sound casual, "Did Geraldo text you again?"

Phoebe blushed crimson and put her phone away. "He and I have a double date tomorrow."

"Oh fun," Helga replied, still trying to retain her casual tone of voice. "What are you doing?"

"We're having dinner at Antonio's Pizzeria and then going for a walk through Tina Park," Phoebe answered.

"Gerald arranged it and…"

"_What,_ Phoebe?"

"_Rhonda caught wind of it and asked if she could be Arnold's date for the night,"_ she said, speaking so fast that the words that flew out of her mouth were nearly incoherent to Helga's ears.

Helga felt like she'd been slapped across the face. She blinked, trying to keep her face from twisting into a frown and the tears that stung her eyes from falling.

"_It figures,"_ she thought to herself, _"Arnold's already going on a date after seeing me all knocked up."_

"She cornered the two of them early this morning as they were coming back from the arcade," Phoebe told her. "She overheard the two of them talking about arranging a double date and she suggested that she be Arnold's date for the night."

"That's nice," Helga said, attempting to mask her jealousy. "It looks like Football Head's too nice to say no to Princess Rhonda."

"Helga," Phoebe said, putting her hand onto her shoulder, "You're right."

The young girl breathed deeply, feeling relieved, but still felt a little sad. Then again, she figured, if the average guy had to choose between her, the pregnant teenage tomboy, and Rhonda, the attractive, stylish, perfectly manicured, direct descendant of the prestigious Lloyd family with a whole host of connections, Helga knew the average guy would choose Rhonda without a shadow of a doubt.

But Arnold _wasn't_ the average guy. He was so much more than that.

Then again, he _had_ spent the longest time during the fourth grade fancying Lila Sawyer, his feelings for her based mostly on her looks, and just a little bit on her charms.

Helga sighed, disheartened. Even the most genuine guys were shallow at times.

"So… does everyone know Arnold's back?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Phoebe nodded. "He called Gerald right before he and his parents left San Lorenzo, and Gerald told me he came in the day before yesterday, at around eight in the evening. Gerald arranged for a guy's day yesterday, they just got together and did the typical guy stuff."

"Like crashing sleepovers?"

Phoebe giggled and said, looking up, "It looks like you're here."

It was the boardinghouse.

Helga felt her legs turn into jelly and she grabbed Phoebe's shoulder, leaning on it slightly before regaining her composure.

"I guess this is it," she said lamely. "Wish me luck, Phoebe," she said before taking her hand off her friend's shoulder.

"You know what you have to do, Helga," her insightful friend told her. "You'll do great," she said, giving her a thumbs up.

Helga gulped, walked up the steps to the boardinghouse and watched as Phoebe gave her an encouraging wave before walking off.

She knew she had to do this alone.

She knocked on the forest green door, not knowing what to expect.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "Ode To My Family" with lyrics written by Dolores O'Hagan/Noel Hagan and performed by The Cranberries. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	3. The Conveyor Belt Of Life

**Chapter III: The Conveyor Belt Of Life**

_I, me, you, themselves and all of us_  
_Chemicals, electricity, and thrusts_  
_Quiet night, hoping the dream blends with conveyor belt life_

_Will the thoughts we've made, column into grace, collections of the fragments we have caught?_

~The Most Serene Republic, "All Of One Is The Other"~

* * *

**I**

After knocking tentatively on the familiar green door, Helga exhaled nervously, feeling as though she was going to faint. When she steadied herself on the stone railing leading down to the steps, she heard the faint, but persistent wheezing of her old classmate, Brainy, from behind.

It'd been both instinct and routine for as long as they both could remember. Whenever he came within an inch of her and began breathing heavily down her neck, she threw back her fist and punched him to the ground.

Turning around to face him as he was still getting up from his tumble, putting on his glasses clumsily, Helga spat, "Just because I'm knocked up it doesn't mean I'm going to spare you, Bucko."

She watched as the ever-present teenager nodded and left, still staring at her, still breathing loudly enough for the entire neighborhood to hear, and still smiling at her the way he always had since their days at the Urban Tots Preschool. Turning toward the door to the boardinghouse again, wondering why no one had answered, Helga sighed. She _did_ feel bad about punching Brainy, since _he_ was the one who knew everything about her and all her deepest, darkest secrets. He knew she still loved Arnold and had been the one to bring her to life after she lost all hope that he would ever feel the same way while they were in the jungles of San Lorenzo during their fifth grade student trip. Brainy was the one who still felt for Helga and always let her know it, but he let simply let her be happy with Arnold because he knew what she wanted was more important than what he did.

Helga realized that after coming together with the kindhearted football headed boy those many years ago in the jungle, during their complicated courtship, and even in the years after their break-up, that she hadn't punched Brainy in years, instead, opting to put up with his incessant breathing.

The fact that she just punched him after letting him off the hook for years was merely her way of hiding the softer side of her that was becoming more apparent. Though Helga had taken to embracing that softer side of hers when it came to watching period pieces and reading the works of Anthony Trollope, she really hated it sometimes, and having someone who already knew everything about her know what she was about to do at that moment only added to how helpless she felt in her current dilemma.

Surprised that no one answered the door the first time, Helga knocked on the door again, feeling her anxiety take over all over again.

When she heard someone from the inside coming over to answer the door, she knew there was no turning back.

Bracing herself, Helga watched as the front door open, revealing a man in his mid-forties, but who looked young enough to be only thirty. He was much thinner than from when the young woman last saw him, which was three years ago. Like his son, the man's skin was considerably tan and his flaxen hair was much lighter, showing that he spent a lot of time outside. His eyes were round, green, and relaxed, though the intense craving for adventure still burned within them. He had the same pointed chin and mischievous grin as _his_ father before him. Wearing a light brown shirt that accentuated his muscular upper body and fitted blue jeans, the man did a double take upon looking at Helga, causing her to cringe.

"_Helga?"_

"Hi, Mr. Shortman," Helga said, finding herself growing impatient with the man before her.

With her patience already thinning, the young woman felt her nerves, along with the life altering act she committed six months ago coming back to haunt her. As sweat formed on her single eyebrow, she opened her mouth, wishing to speak again, yearning to get this over with, hoping Arnold's father hadn't noticed the obvious, and wanting Arnold to accept her despite it all, she formed her mouth into what would only be inaudible words when Arnold's father spoke again.

"_Helga_ _**Pataki**__?"_

Arnold was a lot like his father. They were both idealistic, optimistic dreamers with free spirits and good hearts, but they could also be a little dense.

"It's me in the flesh," Helga answered, her voice terse and jaw set. "Is Arnold home?"

"He's up in his room," he answered, standing off to one side to let Helga in. "You know you can call me Miles, Helga," he said kindly to her, shutting the door behind him once he saw that she was inside.

"Yeah," Helga told him, "I know."

"Miles?"

"_Oh crap,"_ Helga murmured to herself, putting her hand to her head.

The _last_ thing she needed was for not just Arnold's father, but for his mother and grandparents to see her like this.

"Yes, Dad?" Miles asked. He sounded slightly annoyed.

Helga couldn't help but laugh. During the years she dated Arnold, she saw how much his grandfather's antics often drove him crazy. She never doubted that Arnold and his mother and father loved his crazy grandparents, but their antics and eccentricity was enough to drive anyone a little mad. Sometimes Helga couldn't help but wonder how Arnold and Miles turned out so normal.

"Who's at the door?"

"A friend of Arnold's!" Miles hollered back. Turning to Helga, he asked, as he let down the steps leading up to his son's bedroom, "Do you need any help getting upstairs?"

Looking at the stairs and then back at Miles, Helga replied, "No, I should be fine. Thank you, though… for the save."

"You're welcome," the man replied. "Arnold has been looking forward to seeing you again since we've gotten back."

"Oh," Helga said. Glancing up to where the stairs lead to, she said, "I guess I should get going… see you later," she finished, nodding.

As she climbed up the stairs, she overheard Arnold's grandfather, Phil, ask, "Which of Arnold's friends came by to see him? Was it Helga? I wouldn't doubt it if she still wore that locket with Arnold's picture around her neck."

"What locket?" Miles asked, his voice sounding perplexed. When a stunned silence followed his question, he responded, "Yes, it was Helga." Chuckling to himself, he said, "I see she still kept those same pigtails and that ominous unibrow."

"Oh, why didn't you bring her in, Miles?" his wife Stella inquired with curiosity. "I would've _loved_ to have seen her again. From what I remember, she was such a _smart_ young woman. How is she doing?"

Upon finishing her climb up the stairs, Helga shut the trapdoor and made sure it was down completely before pressing her ear to it. She was eager to see what Miles would say. Though she knew he was a good person who wouldn't outright expose the mess she'd gotten herself into, she still wanted to know what he would say.

"Well," Phil said with a fervent seriousness in his voice, "The young girl's gotten herself into a bit of – "

He paused when he heard a strange calamity coming from the parlor and said, "Pookie's coming… let's hope she hasn't chosen _this_ time around to cover 'Papa Don't Preach' in her makeshift cone bra…"

"_Now Philip,"_ his wife said sternly, entering the kitchen, causing Phil to yelp with pain when he felt the sharp whip of his wife's hand towel on his rear end, "I _know not_ to take the current situation the poor dear's in lightly."

Helga's mouth hung open in shock as she continued listening in on the adults' conversation below her. She knew any occasion was serious when Gertie, Arnold's grandmother, was in the most somber of moods.

Stella gasped. "Oh the poor girl!" she cried out sadly. "That is just _too hard._"

"Is the father helping her out?" Miles asked, his voice gravely concerned for Helga's wellbeing.

"Not that I know of," Phil sighed gloomily.

Helga found herself startled when she heard what she presumed to be Miles banging his fist angrily onto the kitchen table. "How could someone just blatantly abandon their child like that? I _swear,_ Stella, if Arnold gets a girl pregnant, I'll cut off his penis."

"_MILES!"_

"He knows better," the man responded grimly, calming down from his previous outburst, "I don't know if Helga did, though… such a shame. She really _did_ have a bright future ahead with that keen mind of hers."

Helga lifted her ear from the trapdoor and brought her knees in close to her, allowing her forehead to rest upon them. She shut her eyes defiantly to keep the tears from escaping and drew a shaky breath from her lips. Helga knew she knew better, and Arnold's dad wasn't stupid. He knew she knew better too and only feigned ambiguity to help her keep the little dignity she had left intact.

Arnold was just like his father in that way, too. He saw only the good in people, even when it went against his better judgment.

The troubled teenager felt ashamed, fully aware of the fact that she'd let down _so_ many people by becoming pregnant at such a young age. Now, Arnold's parents were on that list.

She looked up, and even though she appreciated that Arnold's parents were concerned about her, she felt _horrible_ knowing that they were both most likely disappointed in her. Helga sighed as the feelings of shame that encompassed her only worsened. When she first met Miles and Stella in San Lorenzo, they'd been so sweet and even loving to her even though they'd been imprisoned and held against their will for several years. They were impressed by her deadpan humor, expressive poetry, her methods of self-defense, consisting of only Old Betsy and the Five Avengers, and they got a real kick out of her "tough girl" attitude. Like Arnold, they were able to break down that exterior and unearth her gentler side. When she and Arnold dates, Miles and Stella always made it clear to Helga that she was welcome at the Sunset Arms. While there, the young woman always felt showered with the love and much-needed attention she never received at home. They remembered her birthday, got her a Christmas gift every year, and always sent some sort of dessert home with her. These acts of kindness even continued long after she and Arnold broke up.

Burying her head into her knees for the second time, she felt disgusted with herself. She hoped Miles and Stella didn't feel the same way, but couldn't doubt that chances were high they upset with her and the situation she'd gotten herself into.

The young woman sighed shakily and took several deep breaths to calm herself down before slowly getting to her feet. She clamped her eyes shut tight and opened them again in a rapid succession with the hope of preventing any additional tears from falling. She hated how the pregnancy made her cry over everything both big and small, and the last thing she wanted was for Arnold to see her cry.

Praying that she wouldn't break down or find herself in a crying fit she couldn't get out of in front of him, she walked to his bedroom door and knocked, longing to get the whole ordeal over with and hoping that he would accept her and not pass judgment when she told him the truth.

Arnold answered the door, surprised to see Helga standing before him. Helga noticed that he still looked the same he did when the two ran into each other earlier that day, save for the paperback book he had nestled in his left arm.

"Hi Helga," he said, "Come on in."

Helga stepped inside and smiled, finding that Arnold's room still looked exactly the same from his childhood and pre-teenage days in Hillwood. The carpet cascaded up and down the floor in vivid yellow and orange stripes with bright green swirls and asterisk symbols pattering the carpet carefully in a cosmic, predetermined pattern. The walls were a bright, sky blue with miniature green aliens and spaceships scattering it intermittently. An empty water cooler stood to the left of his closet, which was right next to a shelf containing a large stereo system and a vast collection of Jazz C.D.s, complete with the works of Louis Armstrong, Nat King Cole, Billie Holliday, Miles Davis, Bing Cosby, Perry Como, Pat Boone, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Freddie Hubbard, Charlie Parker, and various album collections of music from the Ragtime, Dixieland, Jazz age periods, and a C.D. of Fred Astaire musical numbers. She smiled when she noticed that Arnold had a few Michael Buble albums, the entire Beatles discography, some Simon & Garfunkel and Paul Simon albums, and music from other contemporary artists such as Jason Mraz, Explosions in the Sky, Chaka Khan, Colbie Calliat, The Eagles, The Fray, Dream Theatre, and C.D.s from artists such as Boston, Elton John, Journey, REO Speedwagon, Billy Joel, Jimmy Buffett, Journey, Kansas, Queen, The Who, and The Beach Boys.

This contrasted greatly with Helga's music collection, which, before her pregnancy days, consisted mostly of AC/DC, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Led Zeppelin, Deep Purple, Alice in Chains, The Rolling Stones, The Smiths, The Clash, Def Leppard, Motley Crue, The Seatbelts, Aerosmith, Oasis, Megadeath, Black Sabbath, The Kinks, Metallica, and Radiohead, among other grunge, heavy metal, punk, and rock bands. Some classical music was thrown into the mix as well, but for the most part, was saved for whenever she threw herself at the feet of the makeshift shrine she'd made out of Arnold's likeness so long ago. She still liked the same music for the most part, but often pled guilty to rocking out and singing along to the music of ABBA and The Bee Gees, and didn't discriminate against the classical music, now having it on constant replay on her little pink iPod.

She couldn't help but laugh when she thought of how different hers and Arnold's tastes were in music. His was so idealistic and laid back, just like he was, and hers, was intense mixed in with twinges of anger at the world, with a little bit of romanticism and upbeat, head bopping tunes hidden within.

When she looked up, she noticed the little pink book from her childhood filled with her various poems about Arnold, along with a lock of his hair sitting next to a cactus plant on top of the shelves where the stereo system was held. The young woman didn't try to get the little pink book back, knowing it no longer belonged to her. She still smiled upon that Arnold kept it after all these years and turned her attention to the long, rectangular desk that still housed an old desk chair and computer, with a large stack of books piled right next to it.

To the right of his bed was a lightly colored lavender entertainment center with bright red trimming. Various items, such as miniature plants and busts of famous musicians such as Beethoven, Chopin, the Bach's, Boccherini, Clementi, and Schubert, stood on the varying shelves. His vintage dark brown radio with the gold trimming and knobs stood on the middle shelf on the bottom of the entertainment center, with the far left shelf holding the selected works of Robert K. Massie. On the next few shelves of the entertainment center were piles of National Geographic magazine with issues dating back to the sixties and seventies, large world atlases, photography books on San Lorenzo and Central America, thick dictionaries and thesauruses, and various books on anthropological subjects, botany, the sciences, and an extensive first aid guide.

On the shelf above his bed were two alarm clocks – one electrical, and another, a potato clock with a small figurine of his likeness attached to it. Above the two alarm clocks was a shelf housing classical music C.D.s and various works of classic literature, such as Thomas Paine's _Common Sense_, _The Rights of Man_, and _The Age of Reason_, Plato's _The Republic_, Rene Descartes' _Discourse On Conducting the Reason_, the collected words of C.S. Lewis, _Frankenstein_, _The Last Man_, old weathered copies of John Gunther's _Inside_ series, along with his memoir _Death Be Not Proud_, _The Enemy At Home_ by Dinesh D'Souza, Robert Louis Stevenson's _Treasure Island_, some books by political commentator Mark Steyn, _1776_ by David G. McCullough, and an anthology of essays by Voltaire.

Above Arnold's bed was the vast sky roof, which lit up his bedroom with the bright glow from the sun. Helga closed her eyes and exhaled as she took in the sunlight.

"I'm sorry it isn't anything special," Arnold said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I know my room hasn't exactly changed since I moved away three years ago."

"It's fine," Helga returned, grinning. _"I love it."_

She loved that his room hadn't changed and could now be considered a constant in her ever-shifting life.

Arnold smiled and said, "You probably shouldn't be on your feet… let me pull out the couch for you." He retrieved a remote from his desk and pressed the singular button on it, allowing the bright red couch Helga knew too well to emerge from the wall.

As Helga took a seat on the couch, Arnold sat next to her, and using another remote, turned on the stereo system, enabling the soothing voice of Nat King Cole singing "Unforgettable" to echo throughout his room.

"Did you walk here?" he inquired, both looking and sounding genuinely concerned for her. She saw it in his demeanor and in his eyes, and it gave Helga hope that he cared and wouldn't shun her once he knew the entire story.

"Yeah," Helga said nonchalantly, "So what?"

"You should've taken the bus," Arnold said, retrieving the book he kept from under his left arm.

"_I can walk places, Arnoldo,"_ Helga retorted, coming to regret those words.

"_Stop it Helga,"_ she told herself through her thoughts, _"You're here to tell him the truth, not to get defensive with him when he only wants to help you."_ Seeing that Arnold now held the book on his lap, she asked, "What are you reading?

"_What Is the What_ by Dave Eggers," he answered, handing the book to her. "It's about Valentino Achak Deng, a lost boy from Sudan. The book chronicles his trials and tribulations as he makes a new life for himself in the United States while paralleling the shortcomings he faced while having to leave his childhood home. I heard about it while my parents and I were helping out at refugee camps in Ethiopia, Kenya, and Uganda. For a while they debated over whether or not we should head to Darfur and help out there, but Dad and Mom thought it was too dangerous… anyway, you can borrow it if you want. I think you would like it."

"I would," Helga said smiling. "Thanks, Football Head." She read the summary on the back of the book and skimmed through a few of the pages, finding comfort in the fact that there was someone else, this Valentino Achak Deng, and others like him, who were just as, if not more, lost than she was. She flipped back to the front cover and grinned broadly. "I didn't know you were a Dave Eggers fan, Hair Boy."

Arnold beamed back at her and said, "I _**love**_ _Timothy McSweeny's Quarterly Concern_."

"Same here," Helga answered. "I'm surprised you don't have all his works lying around somewhere."

"Oh, but I do," he chuckled, getting up from the couch and bringing the stack of books from his desk to her. The large pile contained Eggers' works, such as _A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius_, _Zeitoun_, _You Shall Know Our Velocity_, _How We Are Hungry_, _How the Water Feels to the Fishes_, _Teachers Have It Easy: The Big Sacrifices and Small Salaries of America's Teachers,_ _Short Short Stories_, and his collection of humor books, containing _Giraffes? Giraffes!_, _Your Disgusting Head:_ _The Darkest, Most Offensive and Moist Secrets of Your Ears, Mouth and Nose,_ _Animals of the Ocean, in Particular the Giant Squid_, and _Cold Fusion_.

"Wow, Football Head," Helga said, picking up _Giraffes? Giraffes!_, "I didn't take you as being someone who was totally obsessed with the guy."

"_I'm_ _**not**_ _obsessed,"_ Arnold said, his voice somewhat defiant. "I think he's a great author!"

"Is Agatha Caufield still your favorite?" Helga asked wryly while looking over the books.

"Maybe not," Arnold answered, looking over his copy of _Teachers Have It Easy_. "Dave Eggers puts out _a lot_ of thought provoking work."

After he handed his copy of the book over to Helga, she set aside _Giraffes? Giraffes!_, looking over the book the young man just handed to her. "You amaze me every moment, Football Head," she said. "First this crazy obsession – "

"_It is_ _**not**_ _an obsession!"_

"And now this book. Are you thinking of going to education when you get older? I never thought you, of all people, would consider that field… I mean, Mr. Simmons is like a patron saint for choosing to put up with us all these years, moving up with us for each successive grade."

"Maybe," Arnold answered, blushing after laughing at Helga's comment. "When I was in Africa, I was a teacher's assistant for various English classes there. Each time my parents and I went to a different country on the continent, I was always asked to help out at the schools. I was really nervous the first time around, but I grew to love it. I even coached a soccer team in Nigeria."

Helga smiled, recalling the letter and picture Arnold sent her about it. "I'm sure those kids loved you," she said, already knowing the truth.

"I like to think they did," Arnold said, smiling, "Because I _really_ loved them… but I think it'd be cool to be a teacher in Africa, although that book," he pointed to _Teachers Have It Easy_, really made me think about how there needs to be some reform in our _own_ school systems."

"What makes you say that, Hair Boy?"

"Teachers work long hours for little pay," Arnold answered. "Every year whenever budget cuts are made on a state, more teachers lose their jobs because education is _always_ the first thing to go; and if you're lucky enough to not lose your job, then there's always the risk the next time around."

Helga nodded.

"Teachers are given very little materials to use in their classrooms, and they often find themselves reusing the same books, rulers, paper, pens, pencils, crayons, art supplies, and materials when it comes to mathematical and scientific thinking. Some school budgets can't even afford to give their teachers enough scantrons to administer tests with. Oftentimes teachers find themselves dipping into their own paychecks just so that their students will have enough learning materials for their own classrooms. Art and music programs _always_ face the risk of being cut, and if you cut those departments, what then? What will our future generations have to read and write about if we don't give them any means to express their creativity?"

"Go on," Helga urged Arnold. "I want to hear what else you have to say."

"Last, but not least, people – including students themselves, parents, counselors, and the administrations, _don't_ respect the teachers. The teachers are the ones who work hard everyday to the children and teenagers of our day are learning everything they need to. Teachers are the ones who set the foundation, and they aren't getting the respect they deserve to have. When people choose to become teachers, they put themselves on the line, knowing that they could always be fired even after working at a school for only a year. Teachers just aren't getting the recognition they deserve to have," Arnold finished. "I want to make sure they do… I want to finish the mission my grandfather started."

"Your grandfather?" Helga inquired, her interest piqued.

"My mom's dad," Arnold said. "I'm named after him… he was a real advocate for teacher's rights."

"Wow," Helga said in awe.

Arnold nodded. "I know it's hard to believe, considering Arnie, my cousin – "

Helga's face twisted into a look of mortification whenever she thought of her beloved's cousin.

Arnold laughed. "But my mom and her older sister, Arnie's mom, had an intellectual upbringing even though they lived out in the country. My grandfather was a university professor and always encouraged my mom and my aunt to seek out the best books and always cultivate their minds. My mom took him up on it, but my aunt never did.

"It was my grandfather's hope to give teachers higher pay, to bring them to the forefront, giving them the recognition they deserve to have, and providing them with the resources they so desperately need. He died before that mission could be completed, and I would like to finish it for him."

Helga nodded and not knowing what she was thinking, said, "You can do it, Football Head. After all, you were always destined for greatness."

"Thanks, Helga," Arnold said, looking down at his copy of the book. Turning to her, he placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "You'll do great things, too."

"_Don't kid yourself, Arnoldo,"_ she snapped, turning away from him. Helga, destined for great things? Who was he kidding, anyway? Her future, as well as her unborn child's, was as uncertain as the precise date of the Second Coming of Jesus Christ. There was no way she was destined for greatness at this point.

"Helga," Arnold said in an attempt to comfort her, "I'm sure you'll get far in life. You can't…"

She knew he struggled for the right words to say and that he didn't really _know_ what to say in this situation. The pregnant teenager knew Arnold found Helga's already unknown future vague and void of any promise. Again, he was just like his father in the sense that he knew to let Helga keep whatever pride she had left in herself intact.

"Look, Helga," he said, putting his arm around her in a friendly fashion, "You can only take things one day at a time at this point. Worrying about where you're going to be years from now isn't going to do you any favors… besides, do you know what you look like?"

"What?" Helga demanded, not wanting to know. "A fat pregnant cow?"

"No," Arnold said, affronted at Helga's response. "I think of you as being more than that. What I was going to say is that you look like you could do with a few laughs," he said. "Turn to the first page of _Giraffes? Giraffes!_ and prepare to be amazed, Pataki."

She opened the book and read the first two lines, _"Giraffes first came to this planet nearly five-hundred thousand years ago, on a conveyor belt. No one is sure where the conveyor belt came from, because the pieces of the conveyor belt recovered for scientific study – in 1973, in Middleton, New Jersey, by Arni Arharsson, originally from Iceland – are being hidden from the authors, Dr. and Mr. Haggis-On-The-Whey, by governmental stooges."_

She laughed uproariously at the passage and said, "This is amazing!"

Arnold laughed and said, "Here's a bit of humor I think you'll like. Turn to page 173 in _What Is the What_."

Helga picked up the book, turned to the page Arnold told her to, and laughed until tears came out of her eyes. At the same time, though, it made her realize that these Lost Boys, who'd seen so much affliction in their lives, having witnessed numerous deaths, excessive carnage, starvation, betrayal, genocide, life well below the poverty line, a complete lack of stability, and coming to America with _nothing_, were able to see the beauty of all the things around them in their new home… even in something she perceived to be dull and burdensome, and though she found the passage in the book to be highly amusing, these Lost Boys proudly displayed it on their coffee table, taking the time to see something worthwhile in an object that would never be of use to them.

It made Helga wonder: Had _she_ taken the time to see the beauty despite her trials?

It was true. She was fifteen years old with a son on the way in three months, the father refusing to help her, a mother who worked all day, making great progress in her career but not at home, a careless father who doted on her older sister, "the perfect Broadway star," the feelings of isolation from those around her, a body that was constantly changing and giving her unwelcome surprises, the fact that she was _not quite_ in charge of her emotions or physical appearance, and all the decisions that needed to be made, but that she was afraid of making.

Despite it all, though, there was still some good in the world. Doctor Bliss and Whitney became her allies, and were people Helga knew would always be there for her. Phoebe, though she led a busy life, often made herself available to Helga whenever she could and was there to talk with her whenever she needed it. So far, Arnold had taken on the guise of being a genuinely concerned friend looking out for her wellbeing, and though Helga still loved him, she wasn't sure if he returned that.

Most importantly, though, she developed a strong bond with her unnamed son and was completely in tune with him. She knew when he was happy after she ate one of her many brownie sundaes that she craved on a daily basis, tired from his mother's bad habit of staying up too late, or mad whenever she ate too many hot wings. She knew he kicked madly whenever her sister was around, and his movements often became frantic and jumpy when that was the case, even if Olga was downstairs, and Helga was upstairs in her room. The young woman found it hilarious that her son already developed an aversion to his aunt Olga, but couldn't quite understand why he seemed content whenever Bob, the father of all conflict, was in the house. Helga prayed it didn't mean her son would come out accustomed to hearing his grandfather's angry yells or having inherited the strange liking for "The Wheel" and his gift for passivity Bob had only honed over the years.

However, the baby had taken to rolling around serenely in her stomach whenever she watched those sappy BBC period pieces or listened to classical music. He took to dancing right along with her whenever Helga broke out the disco music, though she hoped that interest would die after the baby was born and that he wouldn't carry it on into his earthly sojourn. Helga frequently found herself reading her extensive collection of Anthony Trollope books aloud so he could hear it.

Helga swore that her son would enter the world with _The Way We Live Now_ memorized word for word.

Gazing down at Arnold's copy of _What Is the What,_ Helga decided to start reading Dave Eggers aloud to her son.

"Helga?"

The young woman snapped her head up, shaking it in alarm before letting her blue eye rest on Arnold.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she answered, still holding the book about the Lost Boy who overcame and who was still overcoming so much in her hands. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About taking you up on reading Dave Eggers," she replied. "His writing style reminds me a lot of you."

"_Really?"_ Arnold asked, flattered. "How so?"

"He's funny, hopeful, a dreamer, positive… he reminds me a lot of you."

"Thanks, Helga," Arnold said, blushing, wearing the giant, stretched out, toothy grin on his face that Helga fell head over heels for so many years ago. "Would you like to borrow them?"

Helga felt her face lighting up and her mouth contorting into a wide grin. "I'd love to!" she told him, now blushing herself. "Thank you so much, Arnold!" she exclaimed, reaching over to hug him, all while simultaneously dropping most of the books to the floor through her flinging of her arms into the air as she reached over to hug the young man she simply couldn't get enough of.

To her joy, he hugged her back, allowing Helga to take in his irresistible essence of woodland shampoo and subtle New York cologne.

She smiled and breathed in deeply, but upon seeing Arnold's copy of _What Is the What_ on the floor, the portrait of the young, solemn Sudanese man staring back at her, she released herself from the football headed boy's embrace and looked down.

"Helga, is something wrong?" he asked her, as worry crept up into his voice, making it crack.

The young woman chuckled at Arnold's out of pitch voice and answered, "I didn't come over here to talk about Dave Eggers with you… even though it _was_ a lot of fun."

"Well… can I ask you why you came here, then?"

Helga took a deep breath and said, "Arnold, I came here to apologize to you."

"_Apologize?"_ the young man before her said, taken aback. "For what?"

"For lashing out at you," the expectant teenager replied. "For yelling at you and demanding that you leave me alone when you only asked me a simple question… for not being honest with you concerning how I got this way," she finished, letting her hands fall onto her inflated stomach. "I'm sorry, I snapped at you, Arnold."

She looked at him and took a deep breath before resuming.

"Arnold, I… I came here to tell you the truth," she said to him. "That is… if you'll allow me to do so."

The young man sitting before her nodded, looked her in the eyes, and said, "Okay." Placing his hand on top of hers, he remarked, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Helga nodded, looking down at Arnold's hand on top of hers. It reminded her just vaguely of their Valentine's date all those years ago when she pretended to be Arnold's French pen pal, Cecile, when during their dinner at Chez Paris, they sat across from each other, their hands nearly touching, only for Arnold to pull his away at the last moment.

She noticed his hand wasn't going anywhere, and looked up at the sky room, noticing that the sun was beginning to set in the sky.

"Can we go _up there_ and talk?" she asked.

Arnold, looking slightly alarmed, asked, "Should you be climbing up there… in your condition?"

"I'm pregnant, Football Head, not invalid," Helga said firmly. "I'll be fine."

"Okay," Arnold said, shrugging. "Follow me."

After getting up from off the couch, he helped Helga up and then proceeded to help her up onto his bed. She watched as Arnold climbed the wall leading to the sky roof and opened the upper windowpane.

Once Arnold was through the window and on the roof, the young woman began slowly climbing up the wall, making sure to be extra careful and steady under Arnold's watchful eyes. When she reached the final steps, the young football headed man offered her his hands and helped her finish getting through the window and onto the roof.

Upon standing atop the roof of the Sunset Arms, Helga watched as Arnold looked at her momentarily before releasing his hands from her own. He nodded his head, indicating that the two should walk toward the front, and Helga agreed. As they did so, she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the time when their lives were easier… back when Arnold loved her… long before the contentious times in their courtship began… before they broke up… before Helga resigned to just being friends with him though she wanted more… before he moved away… before she got pregnant.

The sky was painted in beautiful shades of pink, purple, yellow, and red, and Helga yearned to go back to a simpler time.

She wished to be ten years old again.

As the young woman breathed in deeply, closing her eyes, she looked down and found herself much shorter and her stomach completely flattened. Instead of wearing jeans and a pink shirt, she was back in the same pink dress from her childhood.

Bringing her hands to her head, she laughed giddily at how high her ponytails rested on the side of her head. Moving her hands upward, she beamed when she felt the texture of the elaborately tied pink ribbon underneath her hands.

Letting her hands fall to her sides, she turned her body toward Arnold just as the sun set, letting all the colors fade away in place of a dark, starry night, welcoming a full moon to hang above them, the two lovers.

Arnold was shorter, his hair messy and spiked, his little blue hat resting unevenly atop his football shaped head like it did those many years ago. His large green eyes danced, a smile played upon his lips, and he wore his blue sweater over a long, red plaid shirt that gave him the appearance of wearing a kilt, which Helga found absolutely precious. She laughed upon seeing it, but stopped when she noticed Arnold holding out his hand to her.

Helga took it, and stared into Arnold's inviting green eyes, knowing that they were staring into her own azure orbs.

With a coy smile playing upon his lips, the view of the city overlooking them, he stood on the tips of his toes, brought his face toward her own, and letting his hands rest upon her shoulders, kissed her gently, bringing to her the confirmation that time itself was now much simpler and far less complicated.

"Helga?"

The young woman shook her head, bringing her thoughts back to earth.

Or was it?

She looked down. She was taller, wearing blue jeans and a pink shirt that looked tight against her taut stomach. Her pigtails were lower, and reaching to her head, felt the thick, polyester fabric of the dark blue baseball cap she wore over her pink bow.

Turning herself toward Arnold, she found that the two were within each other's heights. His hair was longer and disheveled, but he still wore the blue hat from his youth. His clothes were tight and fitting and Helga still loved him.

She wanted him to love her back, but knew her life was much more complicated now.

Times were hard, and she could no longer pretend she was a ten year old who had the love of a football headed dreamer.

The troubled teenager sighed, trying not to avert her gaze away from Arnold's.

"The truth. You want it and you deserve to know how everything happened…"

She took a deep breath before telling her story.

"It all started on the Friday in November. You know, the one when we just got out of school for Thanksgiving Break?"

Arnold nodded.

"Right," Helga continued. "It was that Friday…"

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "All Of One Is The Other" performed by The Most Serene Republic. I also do not own the lyrics to the song. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.

Additionally, I do not known the books What Is the What and Giraffes? Giraffes!, which were written by Dave Eggers and Doctor/Mr. Doris Haggis-On-Whey. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	4. You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive

**Chapter IV: You Bleed Just To Know You're Alive**

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming_  
_Or the moment of truth in your lies_  
_When everything seems like the movies_  
_Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive_

_And I don't want the world to see me_  
_Cause I don't think that they'd understand_  
_When everything's made to be broken_  
_I just want you to know who I am_

~Allred, "Iris"~

* * *

**I**

It had all started innocently enough, coming with a lot of build-up that eventually led to the two of them entangled in each other's bodies, his skin pressed so closely against hers she could taste the salty sweat the fell from his brows and dampened his skin softly. Though there had been a lot of build-up leading to their spontaneous sex romp, it was a complete wonder that the two of them found themselves not quite doing it in the road like The Beatles once sang, but rather in the extravagant guest bedroom of Wolfgang Ackerman's house.

Then again, how the two of them found themselves _invited_ to his house for a party was something to be marveled at. Wolfgang was well renowned during their elementary and middle school days for throwing them into trashcans and proceeding to roll them down hills, taking Gerald Field from them, allying with his former enemy, Ludwig Von Streyser, in pitting the two of them against each other and then hanging them from their shirttails on the scoreboard of said field, and teasing them mercilessly.

To Helga's surprise, people seemed to be more accepting in high school; that, or people simply stopped caring about others and were so focused instead on themselves and on trying not to screw up the next four years of their lives, being under the impression that _high school_ was the determining factor in deciding what the rest of their lives was going to be like.

Then, there was Wolfgang Ackerman.

Wolfgang was no longer a bully, instead finding high school to be the perfect opportunity to throw as many parties as was humanely possible. He still kept his dirty blonde mullet, but was taller, meatier, an outside linebacker on the varsity football team, and upon making said sports team, became well-known for his Friday night parties and carefree "live in the moment" attitude.

Helga hadn't even _planned_ on going to the party when the large sophomore approached her at his locker that day, asking if she would grace his presence at his party that evening. To her, Wolfgang's parties were nothing more than an excuse for him to get together with his football buddies and brag about how great they were to anyone who was stupid enough to buy it, because in reality, they _sucked_ at playing football. To Helga, the parties were all hype and no substance, and it wasn't like she had anyone to go with, anyway.

Had the young woman been able to find someone, a friend, or even a mere acquaintance to go to the party with, someone who'd find Wolfgang's vain proclamations pertaining to his skill humorous, and who could laugh at the buffoon right along with her, then she _might've_ considered going. She knew that rounds of endless laughter would emit from her mouth upon listening to the arrogant sophomore brag about his talent (or lack thereof). However, Phoebe and her parents left early that morning to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with her father's family in the northern region of Sapporo, Japan, and weren't due to return home until the Sunday before school started again. Also, Helga knew that the intellectual, Japanese-American young woman had no interest in football, or in seeing one of her former tormentors gorge on microwaveable chimichangas as he boasted about his "gifts" on the defensive line. Knowing Phoebe, the young woman probably would've preferred to stay home and read or hone her martial arts and fencing skills.

Phoebe preferred wittier humor as opposed to the slapstick and toilet comedy Wolfgang often threw out of his mouth in the hallways at school and in other public venues. Even though Helga was well-versed in Dave Eggers' literary journal and appreciated the satirical, subtle humor found in classic literature, British comedy, and the occasional wise crackings of Joel McHale, the young blonde found her guilty pleasures in flatulence related humor and in witnessing the moronic football player and former childhood foe finding himself incredibly debonair, humorous, and a god when it came to throwing around the old pigskin.

For a brief moment, the young woman considered asking Gerald to go with her to the party as friends, as she found the thought of having someone to laugh with more appealing than going by herself. Since Phoebe still dated the young, handsome, African-American who'd been best friends with her beloved since their preschool days, Helga had half-heartedly maintained a friendship with him over the years, beginning with her dating Arnold, as Gerald and Phoebe had started dating long before that. Helga kept the friendship with Gerald after she and Arnold broke up, and upheld it even after he moved away. Helga wasn't friends with Gerald because her best friend was dating and madly in love with him, or because Helga liked the guy in a friendly manner, though she found that she enjoyed his cool demeanor and calm disposition to be of use to her; Helga still found herself friends with Gerald after all these years because he was someone who kept her connected to Arnold. She knew the two friends kept a regular correspondence with each other and that Arnold called him on all the major holidays. Gerald often kept everyone posted on how their former classmate was doing and sometimes told Helga things about Arnold and how he was doing that he didn't disclose to anyone else, save Phoebe.

Though the young woman didn't care to admit it, she was grateful for Gerald's friendship and knew he would find Wolfgang's arrogance and his poor eating habits and manners highly amusing. She always knew she could go to him whenever she needed a few laughs, and knew Gerald would be one who would share in them with her. However, Gerald was also heading out of town. He and his family were leaving right after school to spend Thanksgiving with his grandparents in Oregon.

Still, Helga reasoned that if Gerald and Phoebe weren't going out of Hillwood for the holiday, that they would much rather go on a date together than go to Wolfgang's party.

She couldn't blame them. After all, if Arnold was still around, and were they still together, Helga was sure she would've found something better to do with him to pass the time, such as going to the arcade or to the movies.

In addition to Phoebe and Gerald, most of Helga's classmates were going out of town for the holiday. Rhonda took every opportunity she could to brag about her imminent trip to the Hamptons (not that Rhonda would even want to go anywhere near Wolfgang and his "second class" parties, though she and Helga enjoyed sniggering at the idiotic comments he made along with his several failed attempts to woo Senora Perez in their Spanish I class) and Lila, who'd been on friendly terms with Helga in more recent years, was going to her country hometown to celebrate the holiday.

Aside from her staunch friendship with Phoebe, somewhat forced friendship with Gerald, and being acquainted with Rhonda, Lila, and a few of her other classmates, Helga, for the most part, was a loner. Not that she cared. The young woman was independent, feisty, stubborn, and to most people, only lived to write and set others in their place whenever she deemed it necessary to do so.

Helga already made Harold Berman cry and call his mother to come pick him up so many times she'd lost count. She'd done so without having to use the aid of Old Betsy and the Five Avengers, and the semester hadn't even ended yet. Of course, her tormenting of the young man with more bark than bite and more rolls on his body than the Michilen Man had landed her in the principal's office several times over, causing him to nearly have a heart attack upon learning that Helga had been seeing a child psychologist for years when he made the suggestion to her parents that she seek counseling. This resulted in numerous lectures from Bob, and several therapy sessions with Doctor Bliss where the kind psychologist signed her up for a workshop on bullying and spent several sessions working with her on why she bullied Harold in the first place, only for her to sigh and try not to laugh when Helga's dryly responded, "He's an annoying, overgrown man-child who _still_ hasn't grown up despite being held back in school several times over and is now old enough to drive a car, have a job, and operate heavy machinery… not that I'd trust him with it."

Though Doctor Bliss encouraged Helga to vent her frustrations at Harold in a more proactive manner, Helga would merely say, "At least I'm not socking Brainy anymore!" and leave it at that.

Even in her therapy sessions with Doctor Bliss, Helga was back to square one again. She was back at the beginning, with her sessions with Doctor Bliss mostly focused on trying to get her to stop bullying when they weren't talking about Arnold. She was back to hiding her love for Arnold deep within her heart and pretending that she didn't care when she did, She was back to referring him to the various, somewhat degrading nicknames she'd given him over the years, her personal favorites being "Football Head," "Hair Boy," and "Yutz," so no one would know how she truly felt. Helga was back to putting on the front that she was tough and unbreakable, when in reality, she was weaker and softer than she cared to admit. She made it clear that _no one,_ under _any _circumstances, was to mess with her unless they wanted to end up like Joey Stevenson, who had enough teeth pounded out of his mouth during their days at P.S. 118 that would provoke any dentist curl up into the fetal position and cry.

People knew _not_ to get on Helga's bad side. However, _he_ seemed unfazed by her.

Not long after Wolfgang extended his invitation to Helga, the dark haired young man approached Helga himself and asked what her plans were for that evening as she was shutting her locker, having been assigned a whole myriad of homework in her Honors English class.

"I don't have anything planned," she told him, "Except doing all the Honors English homework Mr. Simmons assigned us. Everyone I know is headed out of town for Thanksgiving."

"Same here," he responded, letting his remarks sink into the air between them momentarily before speaking again. Scratching his head, he said, "There's always Wolfgang's party."

Helga snorted and said, "You and I both know that Wolfgang's parties are nothing more than – "

"An excuse for him to eat obscene amounts of junk food and brag about how great he is when it comes to tossing around a football," he finished. "You said that when we had to do that project in Mr. Johnstone's Study Skills class at the beginning of the year, remember?"

"Do you remember _everything_ I've ever said?" Helga asked, staring at him.

"Are you keeping a _comprehensive log_ of all my dialogue, Bucko?"

"Only of all the funny moments," he bantered back. "Would you like to see it? The book itself is all-inclusive, complete with footnotes and everything."

Helga chuckled and said, "You'll be giving me _half_ the royalties, _right,_ Geekbait? After all, _I_ was your inspiration for this literary piece of work you seem so intent on publishing!"

"I will only if you find that one time during our fourth grade class' sharing time when you called Eugene 'Doctor Cousteau' when he thought his pet fish, Henry, was waving at him when he was actually _swimming,_ funny. I thought it was."

"It's funny until _the_ Doctor Cousteau sues my ass for stealing his good name from him and giving it to someone who doesn't know that a fish's memory span is only ten seconds long."

"Like Eugene's."

The young woman burst into a fit of maniacal laughter, bending over and clutching her stomach to keep herself from completely losing it all while dropping her books in the process. When she finally regained her composure, she stood up to find the young man across from her holding out her books to give back to her. As she thanked him and accepted his kind gesture, he asked, "Which of the many Cousteau's do you think would sue your ass first?"

"There are _that_ many of them?" Helga mused. "I had no idea."

"_The_ Doctor Cousteau, the one who invented the aqua-lung, has children and grandchildren who are still making strides in the worlds of marine biology and oceanography," he told her. "If you're not careful, they could _all_ be after your ass."

Helga laughed and asked, "So have you sent your book describing all the details of my enchanting life off to the publisher yet?"

"No," he answered, "I won't know if it's ready until my editor looks through it." He finished his last sentence sounding extremely serious. However, he made it clear to Helga that he was joking by grinning at her.

The young woman snorted and asked, "Who's going to edit it for you? Have you seen how many typos there are in the school newspaper? You're shit out of your luck if you've already submitted your work of genius to the editors, pal."

"I was thinking you could look over my manuscript while at Wolfgang's party with me," he said slyly. "Perhaps we could get started on an edition about the fabulous football player himself."

"As I've already mentioned, Wolfgang's parties are s_o_ stupid," Helga said, rolling her eyes. "Why would _I,_ or _you,_ want to go?"

"We could just go for the laughs," he suggested. "I'd love to hear your commentary on Wolfgang's eating habits… you could come up with so much material."

Helga smiled and replied, "I'll come up with all the jokes pertaining to the artful way in which he stuffs his face only if you come up with the material for his lack of coordination when it comes to being on the field. We could make it a complete comedy act. I'm sure the entire freshman class would find it to be a total riot."

Laughing deeply, the young man in front of her asked, "So do you want to go? As friends?"

"Sure," Helga responded, holding her books closer to her. "Don't forget your manuscript. I want to make sure it's perfect before you send it off to the big honchos in the publishing world."

"Deal."

**II**

Helga knew that the young man had harbored an infatuation with her for quite some time. It started when Mr. Simmons, the patron saint of education himself, began pairing the two of them together for group projects shortly after Arnold moved away to be a globetrotting humanitarian with his parents. This continued all throughout middle school and carried on into high school, where Helga had Mr. Simmons' Honors English class with him as well as Mr. Johnstone's Study Skills class all the freshmen were required to pass in order to graduate.

Because the two of them were paired together for every group project over the years, they had become good study buddies. To Helga's surprise, he liked the same music she did, though he preferred The New York Dolls above all else and didn't discriminate against The Beatles while Helga didn't understand why most people were so fascinated by intriguing music group that caused a musical revolution. His numerous attempts to get her to like the band by letting her borrow his father's old records and showing up at her house for impromptu movie nights with old, scratchy videos of The Beatles' movies, such as "A Hard Day's Night", "Help!" "Let it Be", "Magical Mystery Tour", and "Yellow Submarine" (which Helga found to be an absolute acid trip) failed to impress her. However, she appreciated the gesture, and in turn, introduced him to the numerous Stephen King novels she kept in her top drawer. He returned the books to her after only having them for a day and a half, swearing that It the Clown made an appearance in his shower the night he brought the books home with him.

The two of them often laughed over their attempts to convert the other person to their respective interests, and over time, they became friends. When Mr. Johnstone assigned Helga to sit next to him at the beginning of the year in their Study Skills class, the two of them had fun passing notes back and forth, making up obnoxious poetry and rhymes often filled with so much profanity that it would make their Dr. Seuss obsessed teacher fall over dead at the chalkboard if read them aloud. When their teacher assigned them to do a report on a Dr. Seuss book for kicks, the two of them chose _Yertle the Turtle and Other Short Stories_, and put in so many clever innuendos and a great amount of adult humor into their project, that it had their classmates dying of laughter all whilst flying over the head of their oblivious teacher, who gave them full marks on their "intelligent use rhyming schemes."

In addition to the two of them being paired together for every single group project that came their way, the two were asked to tutor each other in their school subjects and offer each other any necessary help when needed. Helga offered him her writing expertise in addition to the abundant formatting, grammatical, punctuation, and spelling errors she made on his papers.

Meanwhile, he tutored her in Biology and roped her into joining him at their school's Photography Club on occasions. The young man proved to have a real eye for the subjects he documented with the secondhand camera he bought at Gene's Hi-Fi for the lowest marked price. The teenager fixed up the camera itself and it took shots better than the latest Canon and Nikon models most members of the club had on them.

As the years passed, Helga was aware that the infatuation the young man had with her grew increasingly stronger each time they passed each other in the school hallways, on the streets, studied together, and tried, albeit playfully, to convert the other person over to their way of thinking and certain interests. It became a joke between the two of them. The young woman would try to get him to watch the old school, cheaply made horror movies on sale for a dollar she found at the all but stranded cart in front of the entrance of the City Library while he attempted to coerce her into believing all the conspiracy theories he spent hours reading up on, his personal favorite being the decades old "Paul is Dead" controversy that Helga herself found completely ridiculous.

Though she knew his infatuation with her grew, she didn't think anything would come from it. He knew perfectly well that she only liked him as a friend and study buddy and that her feelings for him didn't go beyond that. Helga never fancied herself as being particularly beautiful or worth loving since she and Arnold broke up long ago, figuring that the second glances he gave her in the school hallways were only because they were friends who were constantly paired together for school projects. Other than him, only Brainy stared at her for longer than a minute, breathing heavily as he walked passed her.

It came as a surprise to her when he showed up at her house that evening with four quarters acting as bus fare tucked into the left pocket of his tight, frayed blue jeans, insisting on accompanying her to Wolfgang's party.

"You forgot your manuscript, Smart One," Helga mock reprimanded him as the two of them stepped onto the bus, the young man informing the bus driver that he had her bus fare covered. "I'm not going to perform some telepathic miracle and get all your musings on me from that sick mind of yours."

He laughed at Helga's comment while indicating for her to take a seat and said underhandedly, "That's too bad. I like to think _my_ mind is just as intriguing as _yours_ is."

Helga grunted and said, "Don't hold your breath, Bucko. My mind is only as fascinating as those stupid conspiracy theories you love reading about."

He shrugged and said, "Maybe Wolfgang only made the football team so the school would see if people would still enjoy going to football games and dumping all their money toward the football program despite the obvious lack of athletic skill."

The young woman exhaled slowly and said, "Only _you_ would come up with an insane conspiracy theory like that from off the top of your head." She grinned and said, "Of course it'd be about Wolfgang, considering that we're headed to his party tonight. I'm just surprised your conspiracy theory wasn't about how he could get so much food through his digestive tract without getting a hernia… although, your point about people being so quick to throw all their money toward our school's football program despite the team's losing streak is actually quite valid."

The young man threw back his head and sniggered, saying, "I guess we'll see tonight if we need to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him, or better yet, have him airlifted to the hospital. But seriously, why all the hype about football, anyway? Sure it makes for a good conspiracy theory, but why is there such a huge emphasis on it?"

"Don't know," Helga shrugged, watching the various buildings and passerby outside the window. "Maybe _you_ should make up a conspiracy theory about it."

After chuckling to himself, the young man looked out the window across from him and said, "We're here. We'll have to walk a little way's to Wolfgang's house, but it shouldn't take very long."

Helga nodded and got up from her seat, following the young man in front of her, where the two stepped off the bus and began walking to Wolfgang's house, continuing their banter on conspiracy theories. Additionally, they discussed the one-dollar paperback thrillers Helga often bought at the Corner Store, his fervent obsession with The Godfather Trilogy, Goodfellas, and Mafia films in general, and the crazy antics of Mr. Johnstone, who decided to dress up as the Cat in the Hat for their last day of class before the Thanksgiving break.

To Helga's shock, when the two of them entered the surprisingly large house, they didn't see Wolfgang surrounded by a legion of beefy football players, members of the sophomore class who shockingly worshipped the ground he walked on, and girls who, for whatever the reason, wanted to date and make out with him. Rather, fog from a large smoke machine was everywhere, bombarding their faces and forcing them into raging coughing fits. The fog itself stung their eyes, making them water profusely.

Using her hands in an attempt to clear the air, Helga found the room itself completely dark, save for the bright lights from the self-installed disco ball hanging above her head. The ball circled around the room from its position on the ceiling, bathing the room and its occupants in all the colors of the rainbow in a pattern of small, multi-colored circles and squares. Peering into the distance, with the deafening heavy metal and techno music piercing her ears, the two different types of music clashing together making an odd sort of rhythm, Helga watched as several people, most of whom wore nothing but enough clothes to cover their private parts with, danced together provocatively, grinding and doing the Lambada and Perrero in ways that would give Olga a heart attack. Several break dancers performed the Bridge, Body Glide, Body Rock, the Headstand, the Worm, and various other break dancing moves with their arms and legs hoisted high into the air, nearly hitting Helga in the face, only to fall back onto the floor in loud, sickening thumps. Most of them fell clumsily onto the floor on top of each other in gigantic heaps, only to get up and begin dancing dangerously again.

"Pretty tame party," the young man standing next to her said, laughing quietly. Taking her hand, he suggested, "Let's go find Wolfgang himself and see what material we can come up with for our soon to be famous comedy act."

Laughing right along with the teenager, Helga agreed and the two made their way past the dance floor, where he protected Helga from getting hit in the face by the unpredictable break-dancers. Upon exiting the dance floor, the two of them found themselves in a dark lit room with copious, brightly multi-colored lights shading its occupants in a flashy, unrealistic multitude of dazzling colors that not even the human mind could conjure. The teenagers soon found themselves facing Wolfgang, who sat sprawled out on the fancy living room couch his parents most likely spent a lot of money on with several exceedingly underdressed junior varsity cheerleaders surrounding him. His beefy arms were around two of the cheerleaders, who had bleach blonde hair, glow in the dark teeth, and more than enough make-up on their faces to clog every single pore on their orange, falsely tanned complexions. One of the cheerleaders stood behind Wolfgang, stroking his dishwater blonde hair with her long, French manicured nails, whispering sweet nothings into he ears all while he took them in with an odd look of euphoria upon is face.

The sight was so revolting, it made Helga want to both laugh and vomit at the same time.

These were the people he entertained and told about his flair for football: Junior varsity cheerleaders, who were so crass, fair weathered, fake, self-absorbed and self-seeking, driven merely by their motivations to climb up the social ladder and be the most popular and most well-known among those around them. These girls were all about appearances, and would surely dump the imbecilic athlete once they had what they wanted.

Before she knew it, the young woman found herself uncontrollably laughing at the repulsive sight in front of her.

Noticing this, Wolfgang turned his attention away from the vain cheerleaders showering him with fake attention and adoration, and focused his beady little chocolate eyes on Helga and her companion.

"What's up, _fourth graders_?" the brawny football player asked them, still calling them by the taunting nickname he used during their childhoods. Spying Helga's hand interlocked with the young man's standing next to her, he asked, with a devious hint of curiosity in his gruff voice, "Are the two of you _an item_ now?"

Feeling herself blush deeply, Helga shook her hand away from the grasp of the young man standing next to her and thrust both her hands into the pocket of her jeans.

"We're _not_ dating," she insisted coolly, a hint of defiance making itself apparent in her voice, "We're _just_ friends."

"You could've fooled me," Wolfgang shrugged before exchanging a sloppy kiss with the cheerleader to his right, pulling her further into his sweaty embrace. "Don't think I haven't see the two of you and the way you behave around each other at school. I've seen the both of you give each other second glances in the hallways, pass notes to each other in class, and go over to each other's houses to '_study_.'" He winked at the two of them and motioned for the cheerleader to his left to hand him the bowl of M&M's sitting on the end table. When she did, he stuffed several of them into his mouth and chewed loudly.

Helga, disgusted by the bigheaded football player spat, _"What are you, some creepy stalker who keeps tabs on everyone, where they go, and who they see?"_ She snarled at him, her blue eyes flashing with rage. She took her hands out of her pockets and balled them into fists. She took a few steps toward the burly teenager, ready to pound him, and she didn't care if it landed her in another workshop on bullying that took up her entire weekend.

"It looks like you got an aggressive one!" Wolfgang chortled to the teenager standing next to her, whose entire face was colored in crimson. "_You_ better make sure you're the one wearing the pants in the relationship unless you enjoy _bondage!_" The immature football player snickered snidely at his own joke as the high-pitched, nasally laughs from the cheerleaders followed his own and rose above the mixture of heavy metal and techno that continued playing on the dance floor far from them.

The young woman, seeing that most people didn't change no matter how old they were, turned to the humiliated young man standing next to her.

"Let's get out of here," she said to him, taking his hand and leading him out of the extravagant living room. "Who gives two craps about what Wolfgang thinks, anyway?" she questioned while fanning away the smoke that didn't come from the fog machine, but rather from the partiers smoking conspicuous amounts of marijuana, pot, and other illegal drugs all around them. Several of these people passed out around her, their open mouths welcoming the smoke that filled the air to seep into them and produce a most rancid odor in their mouths once intermingled with the alcohol on already on their heavy breaths.

People ran by her, completely wasted, without a care in the world, jumping into the air, screaming, throwing and breaking expensive glass vases, mirrors that hung upon the walls, treasured family photographs, and lamps, letting them fall to the ground in pieces. Someone began drunkenly playing the "Spinning Song" by Albert Ellmenreich on the black grand piano as two people danced stark naked on top of it next to where Wolfgang regaled the superficial junior varsity cheerleaders, completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

Helga stopped walking, so intent on leaving Wolfgang's house and a party that was getting out of hand that she realized that he was no longer holding his hand or in the same vicinity as her. Wanting to make sure he was okay, she rushed into the front room and found him about to accept a drink from a shady looking Edmund, whose light blonde hair was longer, disheveled, and his eyes, bloodshot and tired. The young woman pulled her friend away from Wolfgang's former confidante and glared at him.

He, however, leapt at her, grabbed her face in his hands, and kissed her on the mouth, his teeth nearly clashing with her own. Her blue eyes opened wide in shock, surveying the exploding party scene around her. She found herself holding onto his shoulders, not knowing why she didn't want to let go.

When the two finally parted, they stared at each other in confusion as droplets of nervous sweat formed at their temples and began falling down their baffled faces, their bodies trembling. His shook violently as Helga tried to control her volatile movements of her hands trying to reach out and touch him.

The room grew hotter and the sweat continued falling down her face as her body began heating up. She found herself walking toward him and running her fingers through his thick, raven hair, not knowing who, or what, was making her do so. He fell onto her chest, his left hand resting on the gold, intricately carved doorknob to the tall, gilded white door pasted in a variety of neon colors from the bright beams of light surrounding them. He looked up at her with his brown eyes and kissed her again, turning the golden doorknob clumsily behind him.

The two stumbled into the room, falling onto the heavily carpeted ground with Helga on top of him. She kicked the door closed behind her before rolling off the young man and crawling haphazardly onto the spacious, queen sized bed with a large, heavy white comforter covering the mattress.

Helga watched as the young man in front of her got to his feet, tripping just slightly before turning on the radio that stood on the black wood end table next to the bed. The song "Iris" by The Goo-Goo Dolls played softly from the speakers, allowing the young woman to relax and her ears to rest from the blaring heavy metal and techno that played from outside. The young man approached her, sliding seamlessly onto the bed, caressing her chin before giving her yet another, but much gentler, kiss on the lips.

Pulling away from him, she asked, "What are _you_ doing? What are _we_ doing?"

The teenager sitting across from her laughed nervously as he shook his head, throwing his ebony hair out of his eyes. "I… I really like you, Helga," he admitted, his voice small. Crawling closer to her and kissing her on both cheeks, he said, "I was hoping you'd like me too."

The young woman stared back at him and said, "You know I don't feel the same way."

As he pulled her towards him, he asked, "Do you _really_ think Arnold's going to come back for you, Helga?"

Helga felt her heart drop upon hearing those words. "I – I…" she sputtered, but no other words came out.

Arnold had been gone for three years, and as each year passed, the chances of him returning decreased. Helga knew that just because the two of them parted as friends, it didn't mean they parted on the best terms. The young woman, after all, refused to say goodbye to him, and could never muster the courage to respond to the numerous letters he wrote to her. Though she still loved him, the young woman knew from her conversations with Gerald that Arnold dated other girls, whose parents worked for Doctors Without Borders and other nonprofit organizations, doing good in the world and serving mankind. As of late, he was courting a young woman whose father was the head of the American Embassy in Laos and whose mother often accompanied Miles and Stella on their various humanitarian trips, lending her expertise as both a doctor and nutritionist.

"_Why would Arnold want to come back to_ _**me**_ _if he can have_ _**her?**__"_ she thought to herself, _"He can do so much better than me."_

Helga knew it was true. Arnold, the eternal humanitarian, the young man who'd given so much of himself, offering advice, a listening ear, compassion, encouragement, and words of wisdom, along with seeing only the best in those he knew and who took the fall for his family and friends, all whilst receiving so little in return, clearly deserved better than what the jaded, somewhat pessimistic young woman Helga had become on the outside could offer him. Being the good person he was, the young woman found Arnold entitled to someone who could _be herself_ and who didn't feel the need to hide who she was or how she truly felt, like Helga did. The compassionate teenager was worthy of a companion who wouldn't scream at him like she so often had in the past, who didn't throw insults at him, and let her cynicism get the better of her on more than one occasion. He deserved someone who, like him, was open and expressive about her love for him and didn't care who knew it.

She knew all too well that her beloved deserved the best in-laws only seen in the sappy made for T.V. movies that aired on the Hallmark and Lifetime channels. He _never_ should've had to put up with Helga's unstable family, and although he took Bob's constant insults and jabs the authoritarian businessman threw at him without letting them affect his pride, Helga was sure that deep down, he tired of her father and the constant ridicule he dished out while sitting in his favorite recliner in the trophy room, worshipping his firstborn all whilst ignoring the funny, intelligent girl that he always called "Olga" when it clearly wasn't her name. The young woman reasoned that Arnold grew tired with seeing Miriam's excessive drinking and the repercussions that came with it, along with Olga's sickeningly sugary sweetness one minute, and the next, changing into an overdramatic crying fit. Helga knew Arnold ought to have an extended family who cared about his well-being and was honored to add him to the family tree.

Arnold deserved so much more than what Helga could offer him.

Her face reddened when she stared back at the young man sitting before her, knowing that he could see her tears.

"Hey," he soothed her, wiping her eyes gently, "It's going to be okay. I… I know I'm not Arnold… but I care about you and I want to see you happy. I know I'm not this amazing, perfect, humanitarian like Arnold is, but we've been friends for a long time."

He took her hands and squeezed them as "Iris" finished playing on the radio, only to be followed by "Two Princes" by The Spin Doctors.

"We've been friends for a while now," he told her, "And we know so much about each other already. I… I'd like to get to know you better… I… I would like to be the one who'll make you happy… that is, if you'll give me the chance."

Helga nodded and smiled _just_ slightly at him.

It was true.

Over the past three years since Arnold moved away, the two of them _had_ become friends and close to the other person. The development of the friendship was gradual itself, but Helga really enjoyed the ride and had to confess that next to Arnold and Phoebe, the young man kneeling before her on the queen sized bed in the guest bedroom of Wolfgang Ackerman's house knew her the most, knowing more about her than her own parents did.

She enjoyed getting to know him and found practically everything about him amusing, from his quirky obsessions to his fervent passion in trying to get her to become a fan of The Beatles. The young woman liked his jokes, occasional witty banter, the photographs he took and developed the old fashioned way, the inappropriate rhyming schemes they wrote in their notes to each other in Mr. Johnstone's class, and though she didn't care to admit it, she really _did_ enjoy his company.

As Helga looked at him, the young woman felt that this was the best she was going to get.

If she couldn't have Arnold, who was better off without her, then she would take what was offered to her.

Especially since she knew no other chance would come her way.

"Okay," she said. "We can do that."

Nodding, he hugged her close to him and began kissing her with such intensity that the young woman was completely blown away by it.

Arnold's kisses were always so gentle, so soft, and so sweet, while the kisses she gave him burned with such a deep, powerful passion to them that could not be extinguished, that the force, the great power and passion the young man who now kissed her neck and let his hands rest on her behind offered her that the young woman had no choice but to oblige. She liked the edge he brought with him, and as he used one hand to turn up the radio, now playing "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" by U2 in hopes of drowning out the insufferably loud heavy metal and techno music playing from outside, the young woman found that she simply couldn't resist.

She found herself on top of him, the two of them making out feverishly, his hot breath illuminating the air and falling onto their skin. He panted as he, without thinking, took off her shirt and began unclasping her bra.

Singing along to the radio, the young man sang, his voice deep and edgy, but nonetheless melodious, _"I have climbed the highest mountain, I have run through the fields, only to be with you... only to be with you. I have run, I have crawled, I have scaled these city walls - these city walls, only to be with you." _

Meanwhile, her thoughts elsewhere, the young woman began undoing his pants as he licked her small, tender breasts and began showering her collarbone with kisses. She grabbed his ebony hair in handfuls, forcing him to flip onto his side along with her so they could face each other.

Staring into the other's countenance, he held Helga close and whispered in her ear, _"And I'd give up forever to touch you, because I know that you feel me somehow. You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be and I don't want to go home right now." __  
_

As the music grew louder, the two found themselves lost in each other, their cold, bare skin touching, preventing a single inch from coming between them as Helga moaned when he placed himself inside of her.

Still holding her close to him, he added, _"And all I can taste is this moment, and all I can breathe is your life... because sooner or later it's over, and I just don't want to miss you tonight." _

The sex grew stronger and more physical as the two of them hurt themselves, hitting and kicking each other while oddly finding it pleasurable. They pulled tufts of each other's hair and kissed the other person forcefully as he held her close to him while they entangled themselves in the vibrant, white sheets now splattered with bloodstains.

For a while, the two of them laid in each other's embrace, covered underneath the twisted white sheets, allowing their sweaty bodies to draw closer together. Helga kissed his chest and felt herself slipping into unconsciousness at one point, imaging Arnold laying beside her, seeing that he still loved her and returned it with the same, deep passion, making love to her with the same, fervent concentration she so desperately craved from him.

Upon opening her large, blue eyes, noticing that the time on the black wooden clock hanging over the light switch indicated that it was one in the morning, she looked around her, noticing their discarded clothes on the floor, seeing him passed out and clutching a white pillow now collecting his drool, she grabbed her chest, shocked, realizing what had just happened.

She got up and dressed hastily even though every inch of her body ached. She shook him somewhat harshly and told him to get up.

The young woman watched as he fumbled about the room, putting on his clothes awkwardly, rubbing his sleepy eyes, and turning off the radio, fumbling with the controls in his sleep-induced state.

The two were the last to leave Wolfgang's party that night, where they found the host sleeping sprawled out on the living room couch, beer cans and plates of half-eaten food littering the ground around him. The house was in complete shambles. The grand piano was broken, completely smashed with many of its black and white keys missing. Mirrors, pictures, and vases lied in pieces on the floor and unrecognizable stains were present on the carpets and ornate rugs on the hardwood floors. Plastic cups and plates were everywhere, some still containing liquid and various junk foods upon them. The surrealistic lights from the disco ball hanging above them and the various, colorful living room lamps still lit up the house in a host of colors, and the heavy beats of insufferable techno music still played, though this time around, the music was much quieter.

"Wild party," the young man beside Helga yawned, opening the front door for her. "I guess he went all out considering we don't have school all next week."

Helga nodded as the two of them began the long walk toward her house, as the last city bus had left Hillwood long ago.

The night was starless, the moon nowhere to be seen, and only the streetlights were lit up, willing to guide them home. The two walked home mostly in silence, save for the occasional small talk they made about how wild the party was that night, wondering if Wolfgang would ever make it back to school alive.

When they reached Helga's house, he led her up to the doorstep and inquired, "Does this make us… a _couple_ now?"

"I don't know," Helga answered. "I know that I said I wanted to get to know you better… and I do… but I think we moved a little fast."

"Oh."

He looked hurt.

"I – I'm sorry," she said.

She really was, because now she had no idea where she stood with him. She still wanted to be friends with him and still wanted to be with him, but _something,_ or rather, _someone,_ still held her back.

Hating the uncomfortable silence that had come between the two of them, she said, "You know… we never did come up with material for that comedy act of ours."

"I guess we didn't," he laughed halfheartedly. "Unless you count those creepy cheerleaders."

Helga laughed and said, "Maybe I'll see you around?"

"I guess so," he replied casually. "Good night, Helga."

"Good night."

As Helga watched him walk home, she felt horrible.

Her guilt didn't come from the fact that she had sex with the young man in the first place against her better judgment. It didn't come from the fact that neither of them had been thinking when it happened. She didn't feel guilty because she didn't really _like_ the guy, because she did and truly wanted to get to know him better. It didn't come from the fact that she _didn't_ enjoy the sex, because oddly enough, she _did._

Helga felt guilty for liking the sex, because as the young man placed himself inside her, picturing her, _only_ her, and no one else with him, she pictured herself doing it with _Arnold._

**III**

Arnold Shortman stared back at Helga Pataki completely dumbfounded as the young woman finished her sad tale. All these years, he'd been under the impression that she hated him. Three years of writing her countless letters and sending her numerous pictures of his world travels produced no results or any sort of correspondence with her.

Although Helga didn't say it outright, the young man was shocked to learn that Helga Pataki, his childhood bully, former girlfriend who'd put his entire life into a total tailspin, ex, and someone with whom he wasn't sure if there was a friendship or not, _loved_ him.

She'd done the deed and got herself into her current predicament only because she saw herself doing it with _him._

The young man wasn't dense. He knew Helga inside and out and while his parents were in Morocco, he dated a girl whose mother was an anthropologist researching the reproductive and sexual lives of different cultures. He'd learned more about people's sex lives than he'd care to admit from her, and though Helga didn't straight up tell him that she pictured herself having sex with him when she did it those six months ago, Arnold figured it out by observing her body language, tone of voice, and the way her mouth moved when she told him what had happened.

Though Arnold wanted to know more about what went on inside Helga's mind concerning him, and though he yearned to break down the rough exterior she once again barricaded around herself, he knew this wasn't about him.

It was about her.

Rubbing his hands together briefly, he asked, "Does the father know?"

Helga nodded as an unspeakable sadness filled her eyes. "He knows everything."

"How did it go?" Arnold asked. "When you told him?"

He watched as Helga gave him a pointed look, as if telling him that look was all he needed to know. Yet, her eyes softened just slightly when she looked at him again.

She breathed deeply and resumed telling him the truth.

**IV**

When Helga found out she was pregnant on that cold, dreary, February afternoon, she was devastated. When the heartbreak and tears faded away, only to be replaced by questions pertaining to her future, as well as that of her child's, and whether or not she should receive an abortion, the young woman berated and cursed herself for thinking _she_ was the exception and that the perils of teenage pregnancy would _never ever_ grace her.

Not when her menstrual cycle was still irregular.

Not when she still hadn't grown boobs or begun filling out.

Not when her blue eyes met with the father's brown ones, studying his skinny frame, noticing that his man parts should've started growing along with those of his male cohorts and that he basically looked the same he did during their days at P.S. 118, save for the few inches he'd grown that placed him at the same height as her.

They were only fourteen, and Helga doubted that he'd even started puberty yet at the rate it was taking him to grow into himself.

He just simply wasn't virile.

It was completely and undeniably impossible.

Or so she thought.

Because there _was_ a way, and Helga learned in the worst possible manner that she was _not_ the exception.

Since their sexual rendezvous and the confused feelings that followed the both of them long after the deed was done, things became different between the two of them.

While they still sat next to each other in Mr. Johnstone's Study Skills class, made up crude rhyming schemes in the notes they passed to each other, sniggered when their batty teacher came into class dressed up as the Grinch on the last day of school before Winter Break, studied together, tutored each other, and were paired up for even _more_ group projects, a solemn air was now between them.

They knew they could not erase what they had done.

They knew things would never be the same again.

On February twenty-eighth, she approached him on the small city pier, where he stood on the very edge, his back facing her. The young woman watched as he stared out into the water, the sun reflecting off it before turning his attention toward Elk Island.

Knowing he felt her presence, he around and faced her.

"Hey," he said quietly, his eyes moving up and down as he stared at her.

"Hi," she returned, walking toward him.

They stood with just a few inches of space between them, looking into each other's eyes.

The young woman was nervous, knowing what it was she was about to do.

Helga owed it to him, as she was carrying his child. Her family and Doctor Bliss had already known for some time that she was pregnant, and the young woman decided to go through with the pregnancy and keep her child, despite not knowing how she was going to be a capable parent. She hoped he would want to be involved, not so much for her sake, but for that of their child's. The young woman was scared about the uncertainties that were ahead, but was fully aware that time was not on her side and that she needed to tell him the truth because he deserved to know it.

Tugging nervously at her bright pink maternity shirt, which was made for women in the final stages of her pregnancy, she looked at him and said, "We need to talk."

He nodded and offered his hand to her, but she declined. The two walked off the small pier in silence and past the various sideshow games that were positioned toward the back of the pier.

They walked somewhat aimlessly in silence, their eyes darting all around them, afraid to look at the other person. The day was uncharacteristically hot for being the last day in February, and Helga could feel the sun beating down on her, causing her to sweat. She pulled at her large shirt again, opting to wear it because it hid her already protruding stomach. She intended to keep her pregnancy under wraps until _he_ knew and everyone else knew on _her_ terms and no one else's. She sighed loudly, realizing that day was coming sooner than she would like for it to; getting away with forged notes that enabled her to sit out during P.E. could only get her so far at this point.

The young woman laughed when the two of them found themselves in the still abandoned vacant lot from their childhood, with an old dumpster standing erect against the right wall, old pieces of trash and discarded living room sets littering the grassy floor beneath them, and to her amusement, a single half of a black tire with the name "Henry" written sloppily in now fading white paint.

She laughed wildly, staring at what was supposed to be the eternal resting place of Eugene's late pet fish as the young man picked up a few rocks and began throwing them against the dumpster.

Rolling her eyes at the loud noise coming from the rocks clanking against the dumpster, she said loudly, _"Please don't do this."_

"Do what?" he retorted, throwing yet another rock against the large waste bin, "Hurt you like you hurt me?"

"_Stop acting like you're the victim here!"_ Helga shot back, approaching him so they now faced each other with nothing to separate them. "You both know we moved way too fast that night."

"_Oh please,"_ he snapped, turning away from her. He kicked the dumpster angrily and said, "If you think you can act like we can still be friends while you pretend that this hasn't affected you at all – "

"Actually," she interrupted, "Our little one night stand has had more of an effect on _me_ than it has on _you._"

He looked at her, perfectly dumbfounded.

"I'm pregnant," she told him, holding out the taped up ultrasound slides for him to look at.

The young man took the paper containing the slides on them from her with trembling fingers and looked at them for what felt like an eternity. His lips quivered as he continued squinting at the various slides of their child, not quite believing what Helga had just told him.

"_How?"_ he asked, his brown eyes wide with shock. _"How could this have happened?"_

"_Please don't tell me you need an in-depth summary pertaining to how this came to be,"_ Helga said shortly, her arms folded. "I'm nearly four months along, due on August thirty-first and have _no_ intention to get rid of _our_ child."

"_**Why not?"**_ he demanded angrily. _"I can't raise a kid! I'm fourteen years old! I have_ _**nothing**_ _to provide for it!"_

He turned back to the dumpster and resumed throwing rocks at it violently before turning on her and screaming, _**"Why didn't you get rid of it when you had the chance?"**_

"I _just_ found out I was pregnant!" Helga shot back. "Besides," she snorted, "I didn't think _you_ were _virile_ enough to actually _impregnate_ me." He looked down in shame. "We were both idiots, thinking we were the exceptions," she said, "But we're not. We're going to be parents."

"Well, if you _just_ found out," he said sarcastically, "How long have you known, then?"

"I found out the day after Valentine's Day and had my ultrasound the following week," she replied. "I _did_ consider abortion, but I just couldn't do it. If your remember all the lists I frantically made over the past couple of weeks in Mr. Johnstone's class, they listed the pros and cons to terminating the pregnancy.

"I had every reason to, only when I got my ultrasound and heard the heartbeat…" her voice trailed off and she pointed to the ultrasound slides still in his hand. "That's a _living person._ That's a _child._ _Our child._"

He breathed slowly, his fury still apparent and said, _**"I can't believe this. I just can't believe this."**_

He shoved the paper holding the ultrasounds back into her hands.

"_What?"_ Helga spat. _"It takes two to tango, Buddy Love. We were_ _**both stupid,**_ _and you might as well just own up to it."_

"Do you regret it?" he said, his tone of voice changing.

"Regret what?" she asked, lifting up her shirt to show him her expanding stomach. "Do you think I _regret this?_"

"I don't see why you couldn't have gotten rid of it."

"It's a child, moron, not a cold that goes away after a few days of taking medicine, drinking orange juice, and resting in bed," Helga countered, putting her shirt down. "What do you think I should regret?"

"Do you regret having sex with me?" he asked bluntly.

"You know we moved way too fast," she told him. "Sure, we've been friends for quite some time, but being friends with someone doesn't automatically make them a good sex partner… or good boyfriend material, for that matter."

She looked at him and saw that he was deeply offended.

"It's my fault too," she said. "I shouldn't have set you up like that, only to hurt you and give you false hope. I should've just been honest with you from the start, because the truth is, I _won't _settle."

He snorted and said, _"I_ _**know**_ _what this is about… you're_ _**never**_ _going to get over him, are you? Even if he's moved on to_ _**greener pastures**_ _you're never going to stop loving him,"_ he said, his voice filled with bitterness.

Ignoring the young man's insulting comment, Helga said, "Look. If you don't want to like me anymore, that's fine. You can hate me for all I care…." She sighed and told him, "I just want you to be there for our child. More for its _own_ sake than mine.

"_Please."_

He looked at her, affronted, and said, "I can't do this, Helga. I can't be a parent right now, not the way I am. I can't raise a child with you knowing that you don't love me, knowing that you broke my heart, knowing that when we did it, that you only saw _his_ face and not my own. I can't bring that shame to my family or embarrass myself in front of everyone I know…"

"_This isn't about you and your need to keep up with appearances,"_ Helga said. "This is about _our child._ Like I told you, if you don't want to be with me, fine, but you _can't_ walk out on _your child _like this."

He swore and said, "I'm sorry, Helga, but I'm not doing this. I'm not getting involved. I don't want to be."

He threw the last rock against the garbage bin before spitting on the ground and exiting the vacant lot. Helga watched him walk away from her and from their child in despair. She knew she couldn't force him to be involved, knowing that if she forced him into it, that he would only act out, and that his attempts to be a good father would only be half-hearted and more likely to hinder the wellbeing of their child.

Stroking her stomach, she thought to herself, _"Maybe it'll be better off without him."_

She knew she was better off without him the moment he took the news that he'd gotten her pregnant by forcing his tail in between his legs and lashing out at her. The young woman didn't want her child to see the animosity that would inevitably rise between the two of them if he stuck around only out of necessity as opposed to love.

And she didn't want to end up with someone she didn't love, settling for what she thought was the "next best thing" but really turned out to be the worst option.

Helga would rather take risks for true love; even if she failed in the end, then at least she would have the knowledge that she put on a good fight and gave it her all as opposed to settling for something that wouldn't make her, him, or their unborn child happy.

Patting her stomach, she said to it, "_I_ can do this. _We_ can do this."

**V**

The next day, Helga entered the school hallways only to find everyone staring at her, whispering to their friends while stealing glances at her, some looking at her sympathetically, while others pointed at her and laughed.

She exhaled deeply, feeling sick, knowing that her secret was out.

Spotting the father of her child out of the corner of her eye, she approached him angrily. Throwing the teenager against the lockers behind him, she grabbed onto the front of his shirt and spat, _"You don't want to be involved, fine, but_ _**how dare you**_ _tell everyone else in school about this?"_

"I didn't say anything, Helga!" he cried out, "I swear!"

"Sure you didn't," Helga sneered, "You were the _only_ one here who knew, and I wanted to tell people on _my_ terms, not on – "

"What's up, _**MILF?**_" a voice dripping with sarcasm said into her ear.

Helga turned around, sickened, and found herself facing Wolfgang wearing his football jersey that was several sizes too small for him. She glared at him and snarled, _"Don't you know it's rude to eavesdrop?"_

"I wasn't eavesdropping, I was just sending you a little greeting," he winked at her, holding up his hands. "Of course, let's just say it was a complete accident when I saw the two of you in the abandoned vacant lot yesterday. You might want to be careful of where you show off your stomach."

Helga clenched her teeth bringing her fists toward him, but the tall football player grabbed them in his large hands and chided, "I don't think Old Betsy and the Five Avengers can help you out anymore." He turned to his football buddies and asked, "Who _names_ their fists, anyway?"

They all laughed rudely before Wolfgang looked at the young man standing next to Helga and said, looking from him, to her abdomen, still hidden by a bulky shirt, "Nice going. I didn't think you had it in you."

He laughed wickedly and winked at the young man before releasing Helga's hands from his tight grasp. As he walked away, still laughing, Helga turned to the young man next to her, glaring at him through her tears before running out of the school, trying to hide her crying face.

**VI**

"Helga," Arnold said, placing his hand onto her shoulder, comforting her, "I'm _so_ sorry about what happened to you. _Nobody_ should have to go through something like that."

The young woman standing next to him sighed and nodded as the sunset began drifting away, its colors illuminating her and bathing her in an ethereal glow.

She looked at him and said, "Thanks, Arnold."

"You're welcome," he told her, still keeping her hand on his shoulder, showing his support. "Helga," he began, "I…"

"You what?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he said, shaking his head, knowing that he couldn't tell Helga that he'd deciphered most of her story. He knew it would upset the young woman if she knew that he figured everything out. It would crush her, and make her feel more vulnerable, if she knew he was aware of her strong feelings for him and that it was partly why the father abandoned her.

He felt horrible, knowing that to an extent, it because of _him_ that Helga wasn't getting any help.

"Helga," he said, turning to face her, "I think there's something you forgot to tell me."

"Oh," she said, averting her eyes away from his gaze, _"That."_

Arnold nodded, and asked, "Who is the father of your child?"

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the song "Iris" written by John Rzeznik and originally performed by the band Goo Goo Dolls. I also do not own the cover version performed by Allred. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.

Further, I do not own the lyrics to the song "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" written by Bono and performed by U2. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	5. The Complexity Of The Conflict

**Chapter V: The Complexity Of The Conflict**

_Punctured bicycle_  
_On a hillside desolate_  
_Will Nature make a man of me yet?_

_When in this charming car_  
_This charming man_

_Why ponder life's complexities_  
_When the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?_

~The Smiths, "This Charming Man"~

* * *

**I**

"Helga, who is he?" Arnold asked, still keeping his hand on her left shoulder. Tightening his grasp on her, he inquired, yet again, "Who is the father of your child?"

"_It's not important,"_ she said resolutely as she shrugged her shoulders, forcing Arnold to lift his hand off her shoulder. "He's _not_ involved, he _doesn't_ care, I _never_ should've done it with him, and _it just doesn't matter_ since he's not going to be around," she concluded, before turning her back on him.

"But Helga," the perceptive young man said, touching her shoulders gently from behind and turning her around so she would face him, "What are you going to say to your child when it – "

"_I'm having a_ _**boy,**_ _Arnold,"_ she said, her voice filled with harshness.

The young man scratched his head and said, "What will you do when your son gets older and asks who his father is? What will you say then?"

"I'll tell him his _'father'_ fell off the earth and died," Helga replied coolly. "Or maybe…" she slumped her shoulders, looked down at her engorged stomach and admitted, "I don't know what I'll tell him."

"Whoever the father of your child is _needs_ to be involved, Helga," Arnold said firmly. "Your son deserves to have _both_ a mother _and_ a father."

The troubled young woman shook her head, looked up at him, and said, "It doesn't matter if he's out of the picture."

"Helga, it _does_ matter," Arnold told her, already feeling the anger toward the yet unnamed father boiling within him.

Cases such as these always infuriated the young man. As he and his parents performed humanitarian work in various third world countries over the past three years, they almost always came across several unwed mothers, many of whom were just teenagers themselves, who'd been abandoned by the father. It made Arnold sick how those men felt entitled to leaving behind the women who carried their children and went through such excruciating pain to bring them into the world. The young man was repulsed by the sense of entitlement these men felt, claiming that their lives would be ruined if they settled down with the women they impregnated. It broke Arnold's heart, seeing those abandoned mothers who'd been forsaken by the fathers of their children, and in some cases, by their own families as well, because they didn't want the stigma that came with their progeny being born out of wedlock. It appalled the young man how people could just discard of their own family that way, like they were pieces of trash as opposed to human beings.

Although he was fully aware that his own father and mother hadn't intentionally abandoned him when they went on that mission to San Lorenzo those many years ago and that they had every intention of coming back, he felt that void of not having parents during the greater part of his childhood. Knowing how that felt instilled the resolve within him that _no_ parent, under _any _circumstances, should deliberately desert his or her own child in the way those men abandoned the women who carried their children and in the way the father of Helga's son had abandoned the two of them.

"Helga, your son deserves to have his father present in his life," Arnold repeated. "Who is he?"

The young woman trembled in his grasp and hesitated before speaking. "It… it…"

The troubled teenager released herself from his grasp and stepped away from him. She turned toward the sunset, her back facing Arnold, and shook her head. She muttered, _"It doesn't matter,"_ underneath her breath.

Arnold sighed and walked over to Helga, standing next to her. "You know you can tell me," he assured her, placing his hand on top of hers as a sign of his friendship. "I won't look down on you or think any less of you."

"Do you promise?" Helga asked, the panic evident in both her voice as well as her cerulean eyes.

"I promise, Helga," he reassured her, giving her hand a friendly squeeze. "I won't look at you any differently."

Though it was true, and though Arnold knew it was horrible of him, he knew he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious to know who the person was that got Helga pregnant.

Numerous possibilities swam through his mind pertaining to who the father of her son could be. Had Arnold and Helga grow up with him, or was he somebody Arnold didn't know? If the father never went to P.S. 118, did he know Helga from middle school, high school, both, or just one of the two educational phases? Was he older than Helga, or the same age as her? If he was older than her, how many years were between them? Had Arnold crossed paths with him, or was the father someone Arnold had never met? Did the father meet Helga before, or after, she and Arnold had ended their relationship three years ago? Did they meet just as Arnold and Helga were in the throes of breaking up? Were Helga and the father of her child acquainted long before Arnold left the country, or was it after he left that the two of them became closer?

Though Arnold wondered at the vast prospects concerning the paternity of Helga's unborn son and the father's still mysterious identity, his heart broke for the confused, distressed young woman standing next to him, forced to bear the difficulties of a pregnancy by herself, made even more strenuous for her due to her young age. His hands balled into fists as he thought of how much he wanted to give the father a piece of his mind. He knew it was more likely than not that he didn't know who the father was, but that didn't stop the young man from being angry with the person who'd helped Helga in getting her into her current quandary.

While it was true that Helga hadn't been using her brain when she'd gotten herself into the trouble she was in now, he hated that the father hadn't owned up to it and taken his share of the responsibility. Even though Arnold knew of Helga's feelings for him and was aware that she had acted on those feelings against someone else, he still cared about her and only wanted things to work out in such a way that would bring the most beneficial outcome to both her and her son.

Though Arnold dated other girls after their break-up while he still lived in Hillwood and during his multi-continental service sojourn with his parents, he still kept Helga in the back of his mind. He often found himself thinking of her long after their break-up, and she always made his presence known to him even when they were countries and oceans away from each other. Even after all these years, he still felt confused over his feelings for Helga and how he felt about her, unsure of if he still loved her the way he now knew she loved him.

Despite the fact he loved Helga during their courtship, which occurred during the later part of their childhood and during their pre-teenage years, the many stormy, unsettled moments the two had during their courtship often confused him and made him wonder if he really _could_ be with Helga Pataki or someone like her. Though he loved her _true_ self, the young woman who danced, dreamed, embraced her femininity on occasion, let her guard down, read the poetry of Emily Dickinson and Robert Frost, wrote poetry filled with passion and a great zest for life, and was ultimately capable of being loved, the young man knew the other side of her all too well. This was the side of her that suffered through years of careless abuse and neglect, feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, built up protective walls around herself, and put up a tough front to hide her vulnerability. Additionally, though Helga willingly showcased her softer side to the world, she could still start an argument with words filled with venom, win fights just by solely using her fists, scream bloody murder louder than a banshee and earsplitting enough that _all_ the inhabitants of the world, human and non-human alike could hear it, and speak her mind, not caring what the repercussions would be for doing so. Helga Pataki was determined, hardworking, and stubborn as a mule, and though Arnold loved that about her, sometimes he just couldn't do it. He couldn't take the contention, the fault finding Helga performed on him whenever she felt lacking of any value and useless, and the incessant bickering over the littlest of things, such as whether or not Stinky Peterson could tell the difference between pudding made from actual lemons or from concentrated ones, that she would take completely out of context and turn into a full-blown argument. He knew why she did those things, and despite knowing her desire to love and be loved and have that attention she never received from her parents and older sister, sometimes the young man tired of putting up with it and felt that it didn't excuse her behavior.

Arnold knew it was wrong of him to think that way, but the young woman had two sides to her that were both very extreme. The young man found that he either loved Helga and couldn't be without her, or he came to the realization that he couldn't stand her. There was no middle ground with Helga Pataki, and while Arnold knew that several traumatizing events and ignorance of her parents the young woman had gone through over the years contributed to their complicated relationship, sometimes he wished that she would make up her mind and be one person and act one way, or do the complete opposite. It was far from easy for Helga to cope with her inner demons, and sometimes, Arnold couldn't handle it. It was a joy being with her, but sometimes, it felt like a chore.

Despite his feelings of confusion, Arnold truly did care about Helga and only wanted what was best for her and her unborn son, and though he wanted to know who had gotten her pregnant to satisfy his own curiosities, the greater part of him longed to track down the person who'd gotten Helga pregnant inflict on him the worst possible punishment for hurting Helga the way he had.

These feelings of wrath were new for Arnold. In all his life he'd never felt so much anger toward someone, despite not knowing the person. He couldn't bring himself to understand the mentality of those who abandoned their own children and the mothers who carried them. He couldn't comprehend how someone could hurt Helga Pataki, a good, precocious young woman who tried her best, been neglected her entire life, and didn't need the blatant neglect or the knowledge that the father of her son didn't care in her life.

Arnold felt the young woman grab his balled fists in her hands and looked at him with a soft, solemn, far-off look in her azure eyes. After patting his hands gently, she released her grip on them, forcing the young man to relax his hands and release his fingers from the fists they were curled under. He breathed deeply, letting his arms dangle at his sides, his fingers, free, as he turned to Helga and watched with worry as her already ashen complexion became paler whilst the red, mottled patches of skin that scattered her face and arms disappeared and became colorless. Drawing a shaky breath, she mumbled a response that was incoherent to Arnold's ears.

"Helga, are you okay?" the young man inquired, turning to her and grabbing her by both shoulders.

"I – I… I'm… I'm just nervous about telling you," the expectant teenager replied, frowning, "Even though you told me that you wouldn't look at me any differently…"

"It's okay, Helga," Arnold replied soothingly, "I meant what I said."

The young woman exhaled shakily, her skin still pallid, and said, "It's… it's…"

Noticing that what she was about to say gave Helga a lot of grief, Arnold released Helga from his gentle grasp and remarked, "Helga, if you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I understand."

He didn't want to see her in pain anymore.

"No, Arnold," the pregnant young woman breathed, "You… you… you deserve to know the truth."

Helga drew a shaky breath and looked down before speaking.

"It's _Sid,_ Arnold."

The young man felt his jaw drop.

"Sid is the father of my child," she told him in a low voice as the words came out of her mouth in rapid succession, making her speech slurred and somewhat jumbled to Arnold's ears.

The young man felt his mind rotating in complete circles.

_It just couldn't be…_

… but it was.

Arnold was completely stunned.

"_**WHAT?"**_

He blushed and put his hands to his mouth in alarm, and looked down, embarrassed at his sudden outburst.

"I know," Helga lamented as she breathed deeply, shaking her head. She regained her composure, but was still afraid to meet his gaze. "Sometimes I can't believe it, either," she grumbled.

The young man looked up and put his hands down at his sides yet again. He struggled for words as he sputtered, "You… you mean _Sid,_ the one who drank the paint in preschool? _Sid,_ who had Mysophobia in the fourth grade and came to class in a protective mask and suit? The guy who always won the frog catching contest, who got chased by that rabid monkey on our class field trip to San Lorenzo, and who had to pay off that giant debt to Big Gino and became an elementary school loan shark? The one who _really_ started the rumor about Iggy wearing the bunny pajamas?"

Arnold shook his head in frustration. The teenager knew it was stubborn of him, but he hadn't _quite_ gotten over the embarrassing debacle of having to parade around Hillwood in bunny pajamas despite knowing he had contributed to it in his own way.

The young man faced Helga again and said, "You're telling me that _Sid,_ who introduced Gerald as the Keeper of the Tales during our days at P.S. 118… _is the_ _**father**_ _of_ _**your son?**__"_

"I can't think of any other _**Sids,**_ Football Head," Helga muttered cynically as she folded her arms and stared at him with her sapphire eyes fronting a strong sharpness hiding the feelings of inadequacy Arnold knew the young woman felt. Seeing that she noticed his mouth still hanging open in astonishment, he closed it abruptly as she told him, "I was pretty taken aback by it too, Arnoldo." As a bitter laugh escaped from her lips, she said, her voice barely audible, "I didn't think he was _man_ enough to knock me up. I thought I was the exception. But here I am," she bemoaned, indicating to her inflamed womb, "I'm six months pregnant with nothing to show for it."

Arnold nodded. He knew that Helga only acted cavalier about the situation she was in and reverted to calling him the childhood nicknames she coined for him in preschool because it was her way of adding more walls to the hard to break exterior she barricaded herself in. The insightful young man knew Helga made herself more vulnerable by revealing her son's paternity to him, and he knew all too well that Helga Pataki didn't like feeling that way. He sensed that she knew her defenses were crumbling, and it scared her. Helga Pataki would need more help than ever in this case, but she was far too stubborn to admit it.

The discerning teenager hoped the despairing young woman would accept the help offered to her and ask for it when needed. He wanted so desperately to reach out to the young woman and hug her, but knew that only she could admit to needing the help essential to both her and her son.

The football headed young man found his hands turning into fists again, ready to attack Sid, the neurotic, paranoid classmate from his childhood who obsessed over everything and cowered in the face of bullies and authority figures. Though Sid had gotten Arnold into his fair share of trouble over the years, from tying him up, stuffing a decades old sock into his mouth, leaving him stranded in the basement as he led Harold and Stinky in beginning their lives as hobos, to the time where he coerced his two friends into mooning Principal Wartz, the fat, bumbling authority figure from their elementary school days, and pressured Arnold to keep quiet about the act, the young man never imagined that the same person would grow up to become so selfish and willing to abandon his own son.

Then again, Sid was also the person who insisted on being his servant for life after Arnold pushed him out of the way of the falling chicken sign in front of Mr. Chicken's House of Pancakes and Halibut, only for him to cry and complain that he was treating him like a slave even when they young man insisted that all the servitude was unnecessary. In addition, Sid claimed he killed Principal Wartz through the use of a bar of soap made from his likeness as an act of revenge for blaming him on the fake vomit the clumsy principal slipped on in the cafeteria, and spent every free moment he had trying to convince Arnold he was a murderer and insisted on dragging him to the police station so he could turn himself in for the "crime."

Even then, Arnold knew Sid was crazy and could often be seen boosting his own ego; but the young man who often saw the world and those in it through rose-colored glasses against the laws of common sense still believed there was good in the compulsive, fearful young person he grew up with. Now, Arnold doubted there was any good left in Sid after his deliberate abandonment of Helga and their son, but he still had to give him credit for choosing not to tell his classmates and the others he and Helga attended school with about the pregnancy.

Feeling the newfound rage boiling within him, and clenching his fists feeling that he ought to give Wolfgang a piece of his mind as well, Arnold couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that yesterday, when he saw Sid, along with Gerald, Brainy, Curly, Eugene, Iggy, Harold, Lorenzo, and Stinky, that _none_ of them had said _anything_ to him about Helga being pregnant, leaving him to find out about it himself. When the young man had asked the guys about Helga yesterday as they played baseball, went to the arcade, rode all the rides at Dinoland and took Eugene to the first aid station too many times to count, walked along the pier, and finished the day off with their favorite action flick and endless amounts of chips, chocolate, ice-cream, other sugary candies, pizza, and soda at Lorenzo's giant mansion, they all brushed his inquires off, and when the young man insisted, they simply told him she was fine.

Arnold couldn't fathom how Gerald, his _best friend,_ blew off his questions concerning Helga and refused to tell him the truth.

More importantly, he couldn't comprehend what went on inside _Sid's_ mind, and how yesterday, he ignored Arnold's inquires concerning the young woman and enjoyed the day right along with him and the other guys, fully aware of the fact that the mother of his child received very little help and struggled to make it through a single day.

Without thinking, Arnold thundered, his voice low and dangerous, his green eyes flashing, _"__**How could he do that to you?**_ _How could he just_ _**abandon**_ _his child like that? Why isn't he involved? __**How can he just pretend that everything's normal when he's going to be a father?**_ _Why does he have the mentality that he_ _**doesn't**_ _have to step up to the plate and offer anything to you and your son?_ _**Why?**__"_

He stopped when he noticed Helga cowering in his presence, clutching her pregnant stomach, her knees bent, feet pigeon toed, her eyes and face downward, visibly trembling.

Helga Pataki _never_ recoiled away from others, and seeing her do exactly that made Arnold realize how helpless she really was.

His heart going out to her, Arnold calmed himself down, went to Helga, now kneeling on the ground, shaking as she wrapped her arms around herself, with silent tears falling down her face. He knelt down next to the young woman and hugged her.

"I'm sorry, Helga," he consoled her, as he rocked her back and forth, "I shouldn't have lashed out like that, and I didn't mean to aim it at you. I'm not mad at _you,_ I'm mad at _Sid._"

"Arnold," Helga whispered into his ear, "I don't _want_ to talk to Sid."

"Why not?" Arnold asked as he helped her up, _"If you let him get away with this, that's_ _**not fair**_ _to_ _**you**_ _or_ _**your son.**__"_

"I can't force him to be involved, Arnold," Helga answered, releasing her hands from his grip. "He has to want that for _himself,_ and if I forced him to take part in our son's life, then all his attempts to be a good father would only be half-assed… he would only end up hurting our son more than he already is.

"Arnold, I know you're angry with Sid, and I understand that. I really wanted to kill him for a while, and I'm… I'm still angry with him. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't resent him for what he's done." She sighed before continuing and let out a contemptuous, but muffled, laugh. "You've always been a do-gooder, an eternal optimist with the mentality that everything's going to work out if you just have a little faith and talk to the person… that's part of the reason why I…" She shook her head, cleared her throat, and finished, "I don't want you to confront Sid about this, Arnold. If he changes his mind and _wants_ to take part in our child's life on his _own_ accord, that's one thing, but… I don't want his forced, half-assed efforts to be the downfall of our son's well-being.

"This is something I have to do on my own, Arnold."

Arnold complied.

He wanted to help Helga, but didn't know what he could do, and he _still_ wanted to beat Sid up.

Watching as Helga turned her attention back toward the sunset that was continuing to fade away before them, slowly but surely welcoming the night sky, he smiled when his eyes fell on her tight, pink shirt that covered her large stomach. Her shirt had a red stripe at the bottom, and it reminded the young man of her favorite pink dress she wore all throughout elementary school and the first year of middle school they spent together before he moved away.

Helga still liked pink after all these years, and continued flaunting the perky, upbeat color in defiance of her tomboyish attitude. His eyes travelled to the profile of her face, swollen from the pregnancy, still getting over her nerves from revealing the father to him, and still stained with tears, but showing an unbreakable strength hiding a susceptibility she didn't want anyone to see.

As Arnold's eyes traveled upward, his smile grew bigger upon seeing that she kept her pigtails and monobrow. His emerald eyes rested on her dark blue cap, and the young man knew at that moment that she still wore the same, pink bow that he complimented her on their first day of preschool. He loved that the young woman was nostalgic that way, keeping the hidden bow because he first complimented her on it.

Not knowing what he was doing, he found his right hand reaching out to touch her, but upon realizing what was happening, he retracted it, bringing his hand close to his chest.

As if hearing his sudden movement, Helga turned to face him and asked, her face still alarmingly pale, "Did you say something, Arnold?"

Arnold, noticing that his right hand had moved a few inches away from his chest, blurted out, "Can I touch your stomach?"

After putting his hands to his mouth in embarrassment for the second time that evening as he felt the color rise in his cheeks, Helga smiled at him with both her blue eyes and her upturned mouth and said, "I thought you'd never ask."

She stepped closer to him and said, indicating to her womb, "Go on, Arnold."

The young man dropped his hands from his mouth and placed them tentatively on Helga's swollen belly. His eyes widened with amazement and the corners of his mouth turned upward as he felt the baby actively kick and move around inside of Helga.

"_Wow,"_ Arnold whispered, awestruck, as he moved his hands around on various parts of her inflated abdomen, feeling the vibration of the baby's movements. _"That's really amazing, Helga."_

"He's been moving around constantly since we've been… together," she told him as the mottled patches of redness reappeared on her face and arms in a sluggish progression. "He was going crazy when we ran into each other earlier today… he's really energetic for the most part."

"It must be genetic," Arnold laughed quietly as he looked up at Helga.

"Since you've been around, he hasn't stopped moving _at all,_" Helga informed him. "It's like… it's like he's glad you're here. With me."

The young man continued grinning, flattered, and removed his hands from Helga's belly. Scratching his head, he said, "So you're going to be a mom… is that weird to think about?"

"Sometimes," Helga answered, patting her stomach, "But at the same time, having him here with me reminds me that I'm never alone."

"Of course you're never alone, Helga," Arnold assured her. "Even if you _weren't_ pregnant, you wouldn't be alone."

Helga eyed him suspiciously and asked crossly, "What makes you think that? All my dad cares about is his career and doting on Olga, and my mom works all day just so she can stay away from him and all the beer he buys. I can't really talk to anyone about my problems except for – "

"Doctor Bliss," Arnold concluded for her. "But you have your friends." He put his hand onto her shoulder and said, "You have me. I'll be your friend. If you ever want to talk, or hang out… I'd love to do that with you."

"Thanks Arnold," Helga whispered, her eyes letting down the sharpness and showing the complex gentleness they contained, "That means a lot."

The young man nodded and said, looking down at her stomach, "Are… are your parents and sister going to help you in raising your son? Or will you do it all yourself?"

Helga shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know if I'll be the one raising him."

Arnold closed his once open mouth, ready to respond to her vague comment, and looked at her again. Before he could get a word in, however, Helga changed the subject. The young woman stared at him and said, "You have a date with Rhonda Lloyd tomorrow evening."

He nodded and inquired curiously, "Who told you that?"

"Phoebe," the young woman replied, resting her hands on her giant abdomen. "She told me you weren't exactly looking forward to it."

"Not particularly," he answered, "I was always the impression that she liked Curly or Harold."

"She does a real good job of hiding it," Helga snickered, "But I see what you mean. Her pulling Harold into the swan boat with him on the Tunnel of Love at the Cheese Festival during the fourth grade was evidence enough."

Arnold chuckled, knowing that Helga had spent that entire night foiling his night, and said, "I remember spending the entire time chasing after Ruth McDougal."

Helga smiled sadly, her sapphire eyes reminiscing back on that night, and said, "I'm guessing things didn't work out with your previous girlfriend?"

"You're talking about Ayanna," the young man answered her, baffled as to how Helga knew about her. The only other person who knew about his former girlfriend was Gerald, and the young man wondered in the back of his mind if his best friend had said anything to Helga about her.

Truthfully, it didn't matter, but it made Arnold speculate on what his best friend _wasn't_ telling Helga about him.

"We dated for a year and a half, but we parted on good terms… her father wanted her and her mother to go to Laos and stay there with him, and my parents wanted to keep traveling. I won't lie, Helga, she was the first serious girlfriend I had after breaking up with you."

"Oh," Helga replied, her voice small.

Arnold exhaled deeply, under the impression that his attempts to be honest with Helga were failing.

Ayanna was a beautiful young woman, with thick brown hair, wide green eyes that mirrored his own, a flawless, peach complexion, a killer body, and an intelligent, keen mind. They had the most of the same interests, and though Arnold enjoyed being with her and found himself slowly, but steadily, falling in love with her, he found that she lacked the fiery spark Helga brought to their relationship. Nonetheless, the break-up, which occurred before Ayanna left for Laos to stay, and before Arnold and his parents left for San Lorenzo to continue their travels, had been hard and painful.

The young man continued to feel the pain from their break-up, and there was a part of him that still wasn't over her. The two of them still corresponded by sending each other postcards and remained friends. In some ways, having Ayanna as his girlfriend came as a relief to him after his tension-filled courtship with Helga; it was mellow and more serene, but lacking in the enthusiasm that was there when he dated Helga, and he missed it.

Rubbing the back of his neck with a twinge of nervousness after seeing that the expectant young woman across from him appeared to be sorrowful, Arnold said, "I only wanted to be honest with you, Helga."

"I understand," she said, masking the sorrow that was once visible on her face.

"Thanks."

"I…"

"You what?" she questioned, staring at him intently.

"Nothing," Arnold swallowed. What he wanted to tell Helga was that he would've preferred to spend time with her as opposed to going on a double date with Rhonda, Gerald, and Phoebe, but he had no idea how to voice his opinion.

Arnold had been looking forward to seeing Helga and spending time with her upon his return to Hillwood, and while Gerald was his best friend, Phoebe, a good friend to him and Gerald's perfect match, and Rhonda, beautiful, smart, and stylish, he would've preferred to spend time with Helga rather than watch as Gerald and Phoebe hugged and kissed each other while Rhonda gushed about her Caprini wardrobe.

But _how_ could he tell her? _Why_ would he admit that when he found his feelings for Helga to be so conflicted? _Why_ would he want to be the one to confirm that it was partially _his_ fault that Sid walked out on Helga after getting her pregnant? He knew how the young woman felt, but couldn't say anything unless he wanted to crush her spirits and make her feel even more volatile.

Could it be that they were just better off without the other person?

The football headed teenager swallowed and without thinking, said, "It'll be fun to play catch-up with her and Phoebe, though…."

He let his voice trail off, not bothering to mention that he and Gerald had done their share of it since he arrived in Hillwood.

Helga folded her arms again and said irritably, "It sounds like you'll be doing that a lot while you're here… all the girls will probably be all over you."

"When I said I wanted to be friends with you, I was speaking the truth, Helga," Arnold told her, taking hold of her hand. "I'm going to be here for you…. I meant that."

The young woman exhaled slowly and said, "I know you did, Football Head… All these pregnancy hormones tend to make me act crazier than I _normally _am," she laughed with unpleasantness. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Helga," Arnold comforted her, squeezing her hand. "You don't have to apologize for anything." He looked up and saw that the sky was now dark with a few stars illuminated against it with a quarter moon angled just above them. Looking down, and seeing Helga bathed in the moonlight, he said, "We should get you home."

"You're right," she said, staring at him before looking down at her stomach, where her hands still laid upon it.

Arnold acquiesced and indicated to the miniature tower a few feet away from them that led to the downstairs. "We'll head to my room first and I'll give you the Dave Eggers books to borrow, and then I can have my mom, dad, or grandpa drive you home in the Packard." Seeing that she looked nervous, uncomfortable, and that the little color she had was draining from her face again, he asked, "Is that okay? Or would you rather take the bus?"

"Could we take the bus instead?" she asked, seemingly humiliated.

The young man concurred and said, "If that's what you want."

The two of them took the stairs to his bedroom in silence. When they found themselves inside Arnold's brightly colored space age room, he pulled out the red couch for her to sit on and rest as he got out a vibrant and intricately woven canvas book bag from his suitcase, where he placed his collection of Dave Eggers books inside.

After slinging the book bag over his shoulders, Helga looked at him and said,

"Nice bag, Arnoldo."

"Thanks," he replied. He hoped she liked it.

Upon helping Helga off the couch, the two of them exited his room and Arnold opened the trapdoor. He offered Helga his hand, and the two began walking down the stairs. Arnold stopped when he heard his parents and grandparents in the parlor, speaking in low, hushed tones.

Turning to Helga, the young woman told her, "It's okay, Arnold. Let's just go downstairs."

"Are you sure?" he murmured. "We could always figure out another way…"

"It's fine," she replied quietly.

She said it was fine, but Arnold knew it wasn't. He knew she felt uncomfortable and didn't want to face his family like this. Putting a hand to his forehead, he tried to formulate another plan to get Helga out of the boardinghouse and back to her house safely. As he thought through what he could do Helga interrupted his thoughts.

"Arnold, let's just go."

He looked at her and noticed how exhausted she was; he saw it in the way she had her body slumped somewhat against the wall of the trapdoor and in the way he looked at her forlornly. Large, dark bags were visible beneath her tired eyes and they spoke of both a physical and mental exhaustion.

"Okay," he said.

Seeing her like this made him really want to go after Sid and confront him about his neglect toward Helga. He felt his hands curling into fists again, his teeth baring into a contorted look of rage. Arnold wanted to hurt Sid, just like he was hurting Helga and his own son by deliberately ignoring them and the fact that he was going to be a _father_ in just three month's time.

Noticing Helga staring at him in alarm, the young man regained his composure and indicated for her to follow him down the stairs.

Once they finished climbing down the stairs, Arnold and Helga found themselves facing his parents and grandparents in the parlor.

"Hey Arnold," his father greeted him from the couch, where he sat with his arms around his wife, Arnold's mother. "Does Helga need a ride home?"

Arnold turned and faced Helga, and then faced his own father again, perplexed, wondering if the two of them had run into each other before the two of them met up again in his room.

"Yeah. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," his father replied as he got up from his place on the couch. After walking into the kitchen to get the keys from the hook, he asked from the kitchen, "Have you eaten anything yet, Helga?"

The young woman froze.

"Uh… I'm fine!" she squeaked as her face turned crimson from blushing.

"Helga, you need to eat something," Arnold's kind mother told her after getting up and embracing her in a hug.

"I just made a delicious cobbler," Arnold's sweet, but eccentric, grandmother said, leaving the parlor to join her son in the kitchen. "I'll send it home with you."

After his grandmother's declaration, his grandfather left the parlor, trailing after his wife and said, "It better not have prunes or raspberries in it, Pookie!"

Arnold and his mother laughed, but stopped when they noticed that Helga was still blushing.

"It's okay, Helga," he reassured her, placing his hand onto her shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks, Arnold," she told him quietly.

The two looked up when his caring father returned to the parlor, holding the keys and a large dessert dish, filled with the delicious confection containing one of his grandmother's famous fruit cobblers.

"It's blueberry cobbler," the compassionate man told them, smiling. "If you want, Helga, we can stop by someplace and get something to go for you… any place in particular that you're craving?"

Helga looked down and bit her lip before saying, "You don't have to do that. _Really._"

"We _want_ to, Helga," Arnold's father replied nicely. "We'd be glad to get something for you."

"Well," Helga smiled slightly, "I've really been craving a bagel sandwich with everything on it from Bigal's Café."

**II**

Upon walking out of the Sunset Arms boardinghouse and into the Shortman's garage where the Packard was parked, still grinning to herself as a result of all the hugs, kisses, and well wishes Arnold's mother and grandparents gave to her, Helga watched as Miles unlocked the two car doors and opened the driver's door, placing the blueberry cobbler onto the front passenger's seat.

Arnold opened the passenger door for Helga and shut it once he saw that she was buckled in and walked around the giant, deep green Packard before getting in on the other side. He took off the book bag he wore over his shoulders and placed it in between the two of them.

Helga smiled when she looked down at the canvas book bag, which had all the colors of the rainbow in bright, vivid hues woven onto it in a complex, zigzag patter. The strap attached to the book bag was thick and elaborately woven with in black, green, red, and yellow with a white border complimenting it. She _really_ wanted the bag even though it would clash horribly with her primarily pink wardrobe of pinks and whites. However, she happily settled on borrowing the books inside it, grateful that Arnold had lent them to her for her reading pleasure.

As the three of them made the drive to Bigal's Café, with Bud Powell's "Cherokee" playing on MJAZZ, they discussed a variety of topics, such as the classes Helga planned to take during her sophomore year of high school, the books she read, and wrestling. Later on in the conversation, Helga changed the subject from _her_ to _them,_ and asked that they regale all their worldly travels to her. She appreciated that Arnold and her father didn't bring up her pregnancy, her plans for the future, or her home life.

When they got to Bigal's Café, Arnold jumped out of the car rapidly and rushed over to open Helga's door for her.

"My lady," he said, grinning, holding out this hand to her, "May I escort you into Bigal's Café?"

Helga flushed at his gesture and rolled her eyes, asking, "Why are you doing this, Bucko?"

"Because I want to," he answered as he took her hand and helped her out of the car, shutting the door behind him.

The young woman wouldn't _dare_ admit it, but inside, she was singing. She longed to let down the protective, rough, outside facade she fronted when she was around others, especially Arnold. Sometimes she let others, such as Doctor Bliss, see her vulnerability, and she knew Arnold saw it when he saw her tears. She loved him even though she didn't show it and never returned any of his letters.

However, the indications that he'd just gotten out of a serious relationship and was going on a date with Rhonda Lloyd tomorrow evening were implications enough that he didn't feel the same way even though she wished he would.

When she walked into Bigal's Café with Arnold and Miles, the employee behind the counter, a lean, middle-aged Persian man with salt and pepper hair and a rectangular nametag over his right breast with the name "Azad" written onto it in Sharpie, smiled, held out his hand, and greeted Arnold in his thick accent.

"Hey Arnold! It's good to have you back in Hillwood!"

"Thanks, Azad," the young man replied, smiling.

"What can I get you?" Azad inquired, "I'd be more than happy to offer you anything on the house."

"Are you sure?" Arnold asked, "You don't have to do that, Azad."

"Please, anything for my favorite customer," the Persian man returned, smiling as his deep, brown eyes crinkled at the edges. "It is a pleasure having you back after all these years."

The young man laughed and said, "Can I get a bagel sandwich with all the fixings, a large order of curly fries, and a large banana smoothie to go please?"

Helga smiled. He still remembered her usual order from when the two of them graced the café during their courtship.

"Of course," Azad answered. "It should all be ready shortly, but you can have a seat at one of the booths if you want."

"Thanks, Azad," Arnold said, placing a five dollar bill into the tip jar.

"_Always the do-gooder, Football Head,"_ Helga thought to herself as she, Arnold, and Miles slid into the booth next to the door and waited for the order. _"It seems like_ _**everyone**_ _around here has felt the void you left when you went to travel around the world for the past three years."_

How could they not? Arnold came into the world brightening everyone's day from the beginning. The young man always had a smile on his face, a cheerful disposition, an optimistic outlook on life, and like the main lead in the play _Eugene, Eugene!_ Arnold always "kept his sunny side up." He was compassionate, helpful, and always lent a listening ear. He saved all of Hillwood from Scheck's evil plans of turning Hillwood into a futuristic mall and ridding everyone of their homes and gave service to others whenever they needed it most.

Yet, Arnold was also a realist, and Helga loved him for it in addition to his idealistic demeanor. For years, his parents remained missing in the jungles of San Lorenzo, forcing her football headed love to grow up almost _too_ fast, putting himself in the position of being the one person everyone came to for advice, comfort, and help. During their childhood, Arnold took the fall for many people, sometimes going against his better judgment. Helga glared into the empty space upon recalling that he'd done so for _Sid,_ the father of her child, when he didn't deserve it.

Despite growing up in an environment where he was loved deeply by those around him, his grandparents were unconventional, the boarders they housed, a little wacky, and Arnold had to act as the adult and calm center of everyone's universe.

He was the calm of everyone's little world, and people loved him for It, with Helga, loving him most of all.

"Your order's ready, Arnold," Azad called out to him in his distinctive accent, bringing Helga out of her thoughts.

"Thanks, Azad!" the young man called out, getting up from his place inside the booth. He retrieved the bag containing the food and the large smoothie, handing them off to Miles.

"My lady?" he asked, holding his hand out, yet again, to Helga.

Helga made the effort to glare at him, but accepted his hand, happy that he made the effort to help her.

She turned at nodded at Azad, who gave her a small smile in return.

Word spread around fast in Hillwood and once those she attended school with knew she was pregnant, _everyone_ knew. Like Arnold and his father, she was grateful that Azad didn't point out the obvious.

When the three of them were back in the Packard on the way to her house, she had Arnold and Miles narrate their worldly travels as she bit into her bagel loaded with banana peppers, jalapeños, pepperjack cheese, sausage, and tomato, slathered with cream cheese and tzatziki sauce, and topped with salt and pepper. She laughed at Miles' jokes in between bites and made jokes of her own, while continuing to ask her beloved and his father various questions about their humanitarian service.

Car rides such as these instantly reminded Helga of a less complicated time when she and Arnold were dating. His father would pick them up from wherever they had their dates and drive them home, insisting that they shouldn't be out past dark or walking home at such a late hour even though the two of them had been doing it practically their entire lives. The young woman loved that Miles was a devoted father trying, and succeeding, in making up for lost time by being involved in the details of his son's life. During these car rides, he'd ask the both of them about school, their friends, and their interests and hobbies. She loved that Miles had an interest in his son's life, and wished that her parents were just as involved and cared about what happened in her life like Miles and his wife, Stella did.

Arnold was so lucky and he didn't even know it. He was blessed to be in his family, to have parents who loved him and others around him who only wished for his happiness. The young woman knew that people typically learned how to parent from those who came before them, and there was no reason for her to doubt that the young man who sat before her would be a good father… unlike Sid... unlike her own father.

Looking down at her burgeoning stomach, Helga wondered if she would come to emulate the parenting skills of her father and mother. The young woman wondered if her son would grow up to resent her like she did her own parents. She chose to keep her child partly on the grounds that he would love her unconditionally, but how long would that last?

She wondered if she would turn into Bob, trying to rule her son's life with an iron fist one moment, the next, zoning out in front of the television, not caring what became of him, what he did, where he went, or who his friends were. Would she become like Miriam and pick up the bottle to escape her troubles whenever she felt let down by the world, only to become so career oriented once she kicked the habit that nothing else mattered but her own, selfish motivations? Would she ever feel let down by her own child for setting her back and preventing her from escaping her hellhole of a life? Would she resent him for making her stay under Bob and Miriam's roof longer than she would've preferred?

The love would run out at some point, and eventually, her son would grow up to hate her.

"_If he ends up knocking up some poor girl, becoming a teenage father, and finding his life to be a living hell, it'll be all my fault,"_ she thought sadly, feeling the hot, salty tears prick her eyes.

"Helga? Is something wrong?" Arnold asked, concerned.

"No, I'm… just thinking," she lied, rubbing her eyes hastily. When she looked up, she noticed her house right in front of them. "Thanks for the ride," she told Miles as Arnold retrieved the book bag and got out of the car to open Helga's door for her.

"You're welcome," he said, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. Turning to face her, he said, "You know Helga, you're always welcome over at the Sunset Arms. If you need anything, don't _ever_ hesitate to call, or come by, okay?"

The young woman nodded, giving Miles a wane smile. "I know," she sighed tiredly. "Thanks for everything."

"It's a pleasure," he said. His green eyes moved toward where his son stood outside, with the canvas book bag slung over his shoulders, holding the blueberry cobbler with his left hand, and the car door open with his right.

"I believe your valet is waiting," the man chuckled quietly.

Helga nodded and said, "Goodnight," before letting Arnold help her out of the car.

After shutting the door to the Packard, Arnold said, "I'm going to walk you up… is that okay?"

"Sure. It's fine," Helga yawned, exhausted. Today had been a long day, and she wanted to do nothing more than climb into bed and go to sleep.

After she and Arnold got to the front doorstep, she turned the spare key she found underneath the doormat into the lock and said, "Thanks for everything, Arnold."

The young man paused and said, "May I walk you up to your room?"

Helga, taken aback by Arnold's request, said hesitantly, "Uh… sure, Football Head."

Upon unlocking the door and opening it, the two stepped into the house, which was mostly dark save for the stark glare coming from the television set, which played old reruns from "The Wheel". Helga glanced at the television briefly before turning away, knowing that Bob was passed out in front of the tube.

"Do you want this in the kitchen?" Arnold asked, indicating to the blueberry cobbler he held with both hands.

"Yeah," Helga answered. "Right this way." She led him into the kitchen and turned on the light, where a note from Miriam scrawled in messy cursive told her that she'd be working late again that night and not to wait up for her.

"Just put it onto the counter," she told him with a hint of sadness tinged her voice as she read over the note again.

"_Why is it that you can make strides at work but not at home?"_ she thought to herself. _"Why is it that you were so quick to come to my rescue when Bob almost kicked me out, but aren't doing so now?"_

She found the tears clouding her vision again when Arnold put his hand onto her shoulder, offering a silent apology, and a quiet comfort.

"We should probably set the books up in your room," he told her, keeping his voice low, "So you can have access to them whenever you want to read them."

Helga nodded and led Arnold up the stairs to her bedroom without turning on any lights.

The walls of her bedroom were still a bright, cheery turquoise with vivid yellow hearts lining them in an even succession. The hardwood floor was covered in a large, circular pink rug and her bed was still layered with hot pink sheets and comforter. Her desk was to the side of her bed, and a Raggedy Anne doll holding up a sign that read "Helga's Room" still hung on the door from the inside. Though she would never tell Arnold, she still kept the grade school shrine made from his likeness at the back of her closet, with her letters to him lining the shelves on the left, and the letters from him, to the right.

Helga was a minimalist. She didn't need much, and it wasn't really _her_ room anymore, anyway.

A white crib stood to the right of her closet door, accented with a bright red mattress, bumper pad with white stars dotting it, and a red, white, and blue quilt that hung over the side of the crib. A small mobile cascading red, white, and blue stars played the theme to the musical _Rats._ Next to the crib was a small white dresser with red and blue knobs that held all of the baby's clothes, blankets, and toys. On the other side of the closet, was the white changing table with red and blue trimming, which held all the diapers, wipes, and various toiletries.

In just three months, she'd be sharing this room with her son.

"Nice nursery set," Arnold said, setting the canvas book bag down onto her desk. "It… really goes with your room."

"Thanks," Helga replied, "Olga picked it all out and set it up," she said as she walked toward the crib and looked down into it.

"That was nice of her," Arnold said, standing next to her. "Is it hard to believe that in just three months your son will be sleeping in that crib right in your vicinity?"

"I…" Helga paused. She shut her eyes tightly, pinched the bridge of her nose, and gritted her teeth. Though Arnold didn't know it, and though his comment wasn't meant to be hurtful, his comment set the young woman on edge and made her want to cry.

"I… I don't know if I'm going to raise him, Arnold," she told him harshly. "Look at me!" she cried, indicating to her stomach, "A little boy is going to be born in three months, and I have _nothing_ to offer him! I can't get a job, I can't drive, his father isn't in the picture, and Olga had to get me all the stuff for him because I spent all my Christmas and birthday money on clothes that'll actually _fit_ me!" She looked down, ashamed, and said, as tears clouded her vision of Arnold, "I'll be a terrible mother and he'll grow up around apathetic grandparents and a perfect aunt that we'll both always be in the shadow of … and he'll hate me for it."

"Helga," Arnold said, placing his hands onto her stomach, "You're _not_ a bad mother. The fact that you're thinking like this shows how much you love your son… but I have to ask: If you're not going to raise him, who will?"

"Well," the young woman sighed, "Do you remember Inga? The Swiss nanny I had in the fourth grade?"

"Yeah," Arnold said, taking his hands off her stomach, his eyes wistful. "I remember her."

"Bob's talking about hiring another nanny to take care of him when I'm at school," she answered. "It would only be for a little while… and I'd still get to see him."

The young man standing before paused, as if wanting to say more, but instead, shrugged his shoulders and remarked, "Well, I should probably be heading out. I wouldn't want to keep my dad waiting."

"Yeah," Helga sighed. Turning toward the desk, where the canvas book bag holding all the Dave Eggers books laid, she said, "Thanks for the books, Football Head."

"You're welcome," he grinned. "I hope you enjoy them."

Helga walked toward the desk, took the books out of the book bag, and held it out to Arnold. "You probably want this back," she said, trying to mask her want for the beautifully crafted book bag.

"Helga, I got that for you," Arnold said. "That book bag's for you… that's why I put all the books inside of it."

The young woman looked at the bag, and then back at Arnold, and said, "Really? This is… _for me?_"

Arnold nodded. He wrapped her in a friendly embrace and said, "I want to be your friend, Helga… and I really hope you like the bag."

After he released her, she looked at the bag and said, "I _love_ it. Thank you, Arnold."

"You're welcome," he smiled at her. "Goodnight, Helga."

"Goodnight, Arnold."

Still holding the canvas book bag in her hands, Helga watched as Arnold exited her room. Rushing to her window, she watched him get into the front seat of the Packard and drive away, wondering if he knew that her son continued kicking madly inside of her.

Looking down at the book bag, she felt the tears escape her eyes and fall down her cheeks.

Falling into a heap on the floor, holding the woven book bag in one hand, and using her other arm to cradle her pregnant belly, she cried tears of both gratitude and sorrow.

She was grateful for Arnold's friendship and his willingness to be there for her despite her mistakes.

But the other half of her mourned the fact that there wasn't anything more.

**III**

Arnold sat in the Packard in silence, his hands in his chin, looking out the car window with only the sound of Tommy Flanagan's "Relaxin' at Camarillo" playing on MJAZZ to keep him company. His father remained quiet as he drove the Packard, but upon seeing Omar's Falafel Hut in the distance, turned to his son and asked, "Want to get a falafel pita, Arnold?"

"Sure Dad," the young man answered, staring into the distinctive green eyes he shared with him.

Shortly after his father parked in front of the small falafel stand, the two of them found themselves sitting on the curb eating large, delicious falafel pitas stuffed to the brim with various sauces, spices, and peppers and drinking bottles of Yahoo! soda.

The young man couldn't help but marvel at the irony of it. He remembered being here in the fourth grade, eating falafel pitas with Gerald, Brainy, Harold, Iggy, and Stinky when Sid came up to them on his bicycle, his face in alarm, telling them that he'd just seen Helga walking to Rhonda's house "dressed like a _girl_." As a result, the seven of them crashed the rich girl's "girl's only" slumber party that Helga hadn't been invited to for not being girly enough, to see if it was true and to make a few funny faces in the front window.

Part of him was still getting over the shock that it was _Sid._

After all, he'd been the one who approached them, not quite believing that Helga was a _girl._ At that time, he probably would've laughed out loud, or ran away in fear, if the fates told him that he would come to father Helga's unborn child.

Arnold sighed, looked at his father, and said, "So…"

He let his voice trail off, not quite knowing what to say.

"So," his father said, after taking a sip of Yahoo! soda, "Helga's found herself in quite the dilemma, hasn't she?"

"Dad, I was _completely shocked_ when I saw her like that," Arnold told him, looking at his pita. "I just couldn't believe it."

His father shook his head sadly and said, "She's not getting any help… who is the guy, anyway?"

"You mean the father?" Arnold asked.

The older man nodded.

"It's an old classmate of mine," Arnold replied, taking a bite of pita. "He was in all my classes during my time here in Hillwood, and he's been in all of Helga's classes throughout all of her schooling… it's Sid. Sid Gifaldi. Do you remember him?"

His father nearly dropped his pita in shock and said, "I remember meeting him during your class' trip to San Lorenzo. He seemed kind of…"

"Mistrustful of everything? Especially the monkeys?"

The caring father chuckled to himself and said, "Yes. That, but he also seemed kind of insecure."

"He is," Arnold replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I just never thought that of all people that Helga would…"

"I know what you mean, Son," his father said, putting his arm around his shoulder. "I'm worried about Helga. Does she know what she's going to do?"

"I don't think so," Arnold responded. "She's really confused about everything right now… she keeps on saying that she's not going to raise the baby, but at the same time, she's keeping him and has a crib set up and everything…."

His father nodded and said, "She sounds like someone who needs a lot of help." Eyeing him, he commented, "Helga needs a _friend,_ Arnold."

"I want to be her friend, Dad," Arnold stated, "And I really want to help her out… but…"

"You're confused too."

"Yeah," Arnold sighed resignedly. "I don't really know how I feel about her anymore… breaking up with Ayanna was really hard, you know? But at the same time, she lacked that zeal for life Helga has… that is, whenever she chooses to show it," he muttered bitterly.

"Helga has had things rough from the very beginning, Arnold," his father informed him. "That's something you have to remember whenever you're around her. Sometimes she can't what she says and what she does."

"_But Dad, she still loves me!"_ Arnold cried out, finishing his pita. "She got pregnant because she thought of _me_ while she was doing it! _I'm_ part of the reason why Sid doesn't want to be involved!" he added guiltily. "I can't say that I blame him…."

"Did she say this outright?" his father inquired curiously.

"No, but I could tell… just by her voice and her body language."

The devoted father nodded and said, "It sounds like you learned _a little_ _**too much**_ from that anthropologist we associated with in Morocco."

Arnold blushed.

"Son," his father told him, "You can't blame yourself. You know this isn't your fault."

"_Then what am I supposed to do, Dad?"_ Arnold demanded. "_Why_ do I feel guilty? I _care_ about Helga and I _want_ to help her! But I don't know how I feel, and I can't tell her that because it'll crush her if she knew that I'm aware of how she feels about me!"

"You just answered your own question… for the most part," his father told him. "You feel responsible because you're concerned about her. You want to do everything you can to make sure she's getting all the help that she needs… you want her to make the right decisions."

"She already knows she has my friendship," the young man replied. "I told her that I'd be here for her if she ever needed me."

The older man nodded and said, "That's really all you can do, Son."

"But what about how I feel?"

"I can't tell you how feel, Arnold," his father responded. "That's only something you can figure out yourself." Peeking at his watch, the man said, "We should be heading back to the boardinghouse. I wouldn't want to worry your mother."

Arnold and his father got up from their place on the curb. To the young man's surprise, the father handed him the keys to the Packard and said, "I'll let you drive home."

"But Dad," Arnold said, "My learner's permit is from San Lorenzo. I don't think that would hold up here."

"You'll do fine," his father smiled, assuring him. "Eduardo's given you all those driving lessons in that old white truck of his, and you haven't killed anyone yet or run into anything."

"Thanks," the young man grinned, giving his father a hug.

**IV**

After parking the Packard in the garage of the Sunset Arms and placing the keys back onto the hook into the kitchen, the young man walked back up to his room and onto the roof of the boardinghouse.

Placing his hands on the railing, his brain felt weighed down by Helga's story, surprise that she still loved him, confusion over how he felt about her, and anger at Sid. He sighed and hoped he could be the source of help Helga needed in her life. He wanted to figure out how he felt, and sometimes could see himself with her, but didn't think he could handle it at other times.

He hoped she would understand.

He looked at the city of his childhood before him. All the lights were off, but he swore he could see just one, small little light flickering in the distance before him.

**V**

One little light was still on at the Pataki residence.

The light in Helga Pataki's room was still on, but inside her closet, small, miniature rose scented candles surrounded her as she knelt before the shrine of her childhood, her growing abdomen resting on her upper legs.

Inside a pink notebook, she wrote feverishly in swift, hard to read cursive.

When sleep finally overcame her, the young woman blew out all the candles hastily, crawled into bed, and was asleep within minutes. She'd had a long day.

However, her little pink book lay open on the floor.

_**Arnold my soul**_

_**You save me from despair**_

_**I want so much more**_

_**And yet, am glad to know that you care.**_

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the song "This Charming Man" with lyrics written by Johnny Marr/Morrissey and performed by The Smiths. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	6. In More Ways Than One

**Chapter VI: In More Ways Than One**

_It was fun for a while_  
_There was no way of knowing_  
_Like dream in the night_  
_Who can say where we're going?_

_No care in the world_  
_Maybe I'm learning_  
_Why the sea on the tide_  
_Has no way of turning_

_More than this, there is nothing_  
_More than this, tell me one thing_  
_More than this, there is nothing_

~Norah Jones, "More Than This"~

* * *

**I**

It was unusual for Slausen's to be practically empty on a summer evening, save for Mr. Slausen, who sat in his favorite booth, reading the newspaper, wearing his trademark knickerbonker hat and a red, white, and green plaid suit. In addition to the owner of the historic ice-cream parlor, the expectant, troubled teenager Whitney had come to lend an ear to on several occasions sat across from her at her usual spot at the counter, using her spoon to flatten the large, chocolaty brownie pieces that came in her usual ice-cream sundae.

As George Gershwin's "Rhapsody in Blue" played quietly in the background, Whitney listened as Helga finished telling her how her encounter with Arnold had gone the night before.

"He's on a _date_ with _Rhonda Lloyd_," she said while taking a bit of her sundae. Grumbling under her breath, under the impression that Whitney wouldn't hear her, she growled, _"It figures."_

"What figures?" Whitney asked as she leaned forward against the counter and let her tanned face rest in her hands. "You just said he wasn't looking forward to it."

Helga gave Whitney a piercing look with her blue eyes before looking down again. She replied, despondent, "I know, but what if he only said that because…"

The young woman behind the counter sighed worriedly and looked at Helga. She wished Helga would stop barricading herself and admit that she needed help. Trying to remain strong when she was ready to break apart at any moment was doing her more harm than good in her predicament, and Whitney hoped that she wouldn't pass on that genetic trait to her unborn son when he entered to world.

"Look, Helga," Whitney told her, standing up straight, "From what you've told me, Arnold sounds like a _great guy_ and he's been honest with you from the very beginning. He _wants_ to be your friend. We both know that he just got out of a serious relationship and that the only reason why he's on this date with Rhonda tonight is because he was set up on it."

"He's also a gentleman who can't say no to anybody or anything," Helga retorted.

Whitney eyed Helga with concern, and feeling the fatigue from a day's worth of classes and studying said, her tone of voice a little short, "I'm sure Arnold will enjoy playing catch-up with Rhonda and leave it at that. He hasn't been here in three years, and he'll probably be catching up with a lot of people during his time here. He grew up here and it's his right to do that. Just because he'll have other things to do this summer doesn't mean that he's going to forget about you, Helga. He promised to be there for you and your son, and Arnold doesn't seem like the person who would back out of that. I know you wished times would be simpler, but that's simply _not_ the case. The two of you still have _a lot_ to work through, and for the time being, his friendship is the best thing you're going to get."

The young woman took a deep breath when she finished speaking and found Helga's sorrowful cobalt orbs staring into her own deep brown ones. The despairing teenager sitting at the counter didn't say anything, but rather stared at her with eyes that read, _"You're right, but I want what I have with Arnold to be_ _**so much more.**__"_

They were also eyes that hated Whitney for being right.

She watched as Helga placed a five-dollar bill on the counter next to her finished dessert, slid off her stool at the counter clumsily, and mumbled a hasty goodbye before taking off and leaving the ice-cream parlor.

Whitney exhaled and rubbed her temples in frustration as she single-handedly took the bowl once containing the sweet, flavorful confection of ice-cream, brownies, and numerous toppings, along with the spoon Helga used to eat it with and took them to the back of the kitchen. After placing them inside the dishwasher, the young woman hastily wiped her hands on her apron upon coming out of the kitchen and scanned the parlor to see if there were any more customers. To her surprise, Mr. Slausen was still sitting his favorite booth doing the crossword puzzle right next to the comics.

Taking a deep breath after seeing that there were no additional customers that needed tending to, Whitney walked to Mr. Slausen's booth, slid onto the seat right across from him, and opened her mouth to speak. However, before she could get any words out edgewise, her boss looked up from his crossword puzzle and stared at her earnestly.

"Rough day?" he asked.

"You have _no_ idea," Whitney responded as she stretched her arms and yawned loudly. "I'm starting to rethink attending university year round. I thought it was such a great idea to get done with university faster at first, but I miss my family and I'm _constantly_ busy, especially now that finals are coming up in a month and a half, but am constantly being bombarded by all the new projects my professors are assigning me. I feel like I have _no_ time for myself."

She stopped talking and stared at her employer tentatively, hoping that she wasn't coming across as an angry employee who only saw her job as a stepping stone to the next best thing. Additionally, she tried not to think of that disastrous week halfway through May, where she was juggling tests, photography sessions, her job, and her sanity. The young woman shook her head and sighed.

Gratefully, her boss only continued to look at her with a sympathetic understanding in his eyes.

I know how that feels, Mr. Slausen told her, "It's hard when you feel like you don't have time for yourself. Go on," the understanding man encouraged her, "Everybody needs to vent."

Whitney breathed slowly and inquired, "Was I out of line, Mr. Slausen? You know, when Helga and I were talking, and she was telling me about when she visited Arnold yesterday?"

The perceptive elder put down the newspaper, laying it out across the table in front of them. He stared at Whitney with his chocolate eyes knowingly and answered with a distinctive bluntness in his voice, "_That,_ Miss Whitney, depends on what _your_ definition of _being out of line_ _**is.**_"

"I could've been nicer about it," Whitney sighed, irritated with how she handled the previous situation. "There's no excuse for the way I behaved toward her."

"Whitney, Helga needed to hear the truth and you were right in being honest with her," the young woman's insightful boss informed her. "You did the right thing by not giving her any false hope concerning her friend Arnold. Doing so would've done more harm than good for her in the long run."

She nodded and said, "But still. I shouldn't have snapped at her. Today was just exhausting, with my four classes today, studying for two tests I have this week, balancing seventeen credits, working, putting myself through university, and trying to think ahead. I should've been more understanding, but on top of everything I have going on right now, I'm worried about her."

"You're facing your hard battles just like everyone else," Mr. Slausen said reassuringly. "To the rest of the world, your current tribulations might seem insignificant compared to that of Helga's, but what you're going through is important to you right now, and what matters is the fact that you're doing everything you can to overcome your own personal crusades.

"However," he remarked, "I'm glad you're worried about your friend. That young woman has _a lot_ of opposition facing her right now." He picked up his pen and finished the nearly done crossword with a few scribbles and said, "It's incomprehensible how rough she's had it."

Whitney nodded and lamented, "She's making things _so_ hard on herself, though! She _needs_ help, but is too stubborn to admit to it. Helga won't ask for it even though it would do her a lot of good for both her and her child, and she keeps putting off these… _really important_ decisions that'll affect her and her son, and she can't afford to put them off, but that's _exactly_ what she's doing."

"Perhaps just trying to make it through a single day is all she can do," her kind and wise employer told her. "From what I've heard, she doesn't have a very strong support system at home and she's been taking care of herself her entire life."

"That's probably why she hates asking for help," Whitney realized, "Because she's been helping _herself_ her entire life." The young woman looked down and said, "But now that Arnold's back… she wants him back _so badly_ and I feel like she's getting in _way_ over her head."

"She's _loved_ that young man since her childhood, Miss Whitney, Mr. Slausen told her. That love is simply n_ot_ going to weaken or die out despite all the opposition facing her and the fact that she's contributing to what may be her own demise."

"I know," Whitney responded, concerned for her friend. "But from what Helga's told me, it sounds like both she _and_ Arnold need to more time to figure things out before they become more than just friends."

They used to be more than that, her discerning boss told her. You should've been here when the two of them were actually _dating_ each other."

Her eyes and mouth widening in shock, Whitney asked, "They actually _dated!_"

"Oh yes," Mr. Slausen said. "They used to come in here all the time and have mint chocolate chip milkshakes together." Chuckling to himself, he said, "One minute, they'd be all over each other, kissing each other and signing their praises, and the next, they'd be fighting like the world was going to explode at any given moment. _That_ was one whirlwind romance not even the complicated, intermingled love lives of the characters in _The Way We Live Now_ could compete with."

"_Wow."_

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it," the elderly man reminisced, tilting his head back and bringing his hand to his chin. "The two of them really did love each other." He eyed Whitney and said, "Never before have I seen such an intense, passionate love between two people so young, and who were so different, yet complimented each other so perfectly." Clearing his throat, he finished, "As you know, three years have passed since that time, and both Arnold and Helga have changed greatly since then. Truthfully, it hasn't really been that long at all, but the two of them have been in very grown up situations that have aged them beyond their years. Helga's about to face motherhood at such a tender age, and the young man she loves has travelled the world and witnessed poverty in ways that most people here in Hillwood can't even begin to comprehend. Arnold's acted as the calm center of everyone's universe his entire life, and honestly, he's more grown up than Helga is. It's possible that he might already know how Helga feels about him, and he'll have to do _a lot_ of contemplating before he can decide where he stands with her." He sighed and said, "Even with all the consideration he'll give to Helga's situation, I just can't imagine what would happen if he decides that he doesn't feel the same as she did."

The young woman shook her head. Her boss, the understanding he had of those around him, and the introspective thought he offered in these situations, never ceased to amaze her. Then again, Mr. Slausen and his ancestors had lived in Hillwood since its humble beginnings and founded the ice-cream parlor, building it from the ground up and using all their resources, and all their faith that they could make their living off selling ice-cream, other confectionary treats, and fattening, but delicious foods, all by themselves. They lived the American Dream, doing so with determination and hard work. He owned the place along with his descendants and had seen many of Hillwood's citizens grace the family business over the years. He'd seen people grow up and spend some of their best and worst moments here in this parlor, and Whitney knew without a shadow of a doubt that the kind man knew of Arnold and Helga's crazy romance just from the contentious dates that took place in Slausen's so many years ago.

That, and Hillwood was a small town.

Whitney sighed and said, "That's why I'm worried about her. I don't want Helga to get hurt. She's already been through so much."

Mr. Slausen smiled at her encouragingly and folded up his newspaper. "You're right to worry about her," he said. "You told Helga the truths she _needed_ to hear, and she reacted the way she did because the truth hit just a little too close to home for her." He looked at her and said directly, "But _sometimes,_ the truth hurts."

"That's true," Whitney sighed, still feeling some remorse for her outburst at Helga. While it was true that Whitney had her own struggles and worries, she knew that Helga's needs were much greater than her own. Having grown up in an environment where the spirit of aloha, which meant showing affection, compassion, grace, kindness, love, and mercy, was a huge part of her family life, the young woman knew that Helga needed her love and understanding. In addition to being raised in a home where she was taught to show these sentiments, Whitney's mother also told her to spend her life serving others, and the young woman knew that her friend needed help and was willing to offer it to her. Though the pregnant teenager needed to hear what Whitney had to say to her, she knew she could've done so in a nicer way that didn't upset her.

In spite of Whitney's own trials, Helga needed a friend, and the young woman, in keeping with the spirit of aloha, would offer her friendship to the young woman and any help she stood in need of in spite of her belligerence.

Upon coming to this newfound resolve to help a friend in crisis, the bell above the door rang loudly, indicating that a customer had entered the historic ice-cream parlor.

"It looks like you have a customer," the understanding owner smiled as he and Whitney got up from their seats inside the booth. Looking at her, he asked, "Will you be okay closing up shop tonight?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Whitney replied as she watched the young consumer take a seat at the booth right next to the counter.

Mr. Slausen smiled and tipped his hat to her. You take care, Miss Whitney, he told her before exiting the ice-cream parlor.

Whitney grinned as she watched the caring owner exit the ice-cream parlor that had been in his family for generations.

She laughed out loud upon realizing that Mr. Slausen had adopted the catchphrase she'd grown up saying in and among members of her family, keeping in the very spirit of aloha she'd been raised to live and abide by.

**II**

The night was young and a busy air was apparent among those who dined at Antonio's Pizzeria. The pizza restaurant was family friendly, with red and white tablecloths covering the tables, white paper placemats, a small bucket filled with crayons of every color, even the obscure ones, and as centerpieces to the table, two oak scented candles and a small vase of red carnations.

This was Arnold's first date since he and Ayanna broke up and the young man felt very apprehensive about it. Upon seeing Rhonda again for the first time in three years, he was taken aback by how different she and Ayanna were. Where his ex-girlfriend was quiet and a deep thinker, Rhonda was extremely opinionated and loved listening to the sound of her own voice. In contrast to the worldly young woman who had exquisite tastes in cuisine, fashion, jewelry, vacation spots, and all things pertaining to design, Ayanna was down to earth and didn't care about what clothes she wore, the food she ate, or her modes of transportation so long as they provided her with what she needed. While the adventurous young woman enjoyed exploring and getting a little dirty when deemed necessary, Rhonda hated dirt and found her greatest escapades in conquering vast shopping malls in a single day.

Ayanna and Rhonda were both different from each other, and yet, they were _both_ the _anti_ Helga Pataki.

Like Rhonda, Helga could be feminine and she was outspoken. She was similar to Ayanna in that she had a keen intellect, lived for adventure, looked far deeper into a person's heart and didn't let outside appearances determine what a person was truly like, and had a tangible realness to her.

However, Helga was also lively, passionate, obstinate, strong-willed, tough, and underneath it all, extremely delicate. She had a complexity, a _force_ that drew others to her that neither Ayanna nor Rhonda could compete with, and it continued to intrigue and puzzle him.

He watched as Gerald and Phoebe, the happy couple in coordinating outfits of beige and cool blue, placed their two paper placemats together and traced each other's hands overlapping the other, making it look as though the two's hands were clasped together. The young man chuckled when his best friend claimed that he and Phoebe were holding hands.

He turned to Rhonda, who flaunted a white, fluid, knee-length, strapless dress made from chiffon that enhanced her sleek figure and collarbones with its sweetheart neckline, and appeared as though it had been spray-painted onto her shapely body. Her long, raven hair sported jaunty curls that gave her hairstyle an overall, voluminous bounce was pulled back to showcase her black dangly earrings. Several large, ebony bracelets danced on her left wrist as she traced her own hand onto her placemat, giving her paper hand manicured red nails.

"Arnold, I think you should trace your hand with _this_ crayon," Rhonda told him, handing him a red one from the bucket, "Since it matches the coat you're wearing."

Arnold smiled and looked down at his outfit. He wore tight, black jeans and a white shirt with a skinny black tie. However, the shirt and tie were covered by a fitted red pea coat that was buttoned up.

"By the way, Arnold," Rhonda grinned devilishly at him, "I _do love_ your pea coat. It brings out your green eyes."

Thanks, Rhonda, he replied while tracing his own hand onto the placemat in front of him with great reluctance.

The young man couldn't deny that Rhonda Wellington Lloyd was beautiful, fashionable, and had great tastes, but she just wasn't Helga Pataki.

When he and Helga dated, she never made his outfit the topic of conversation, instead opting to discuss various topics with him such as different cultures, literature, old movies, poetry, politics, and on occasion, the two discussed international affairs since she knew he was interested in that particular subject matter.

Then again, Rhonda didn't call him names such as Football Head, Hair Boy, and or pick arguments with him and make things complicated just for the sake of doing it. He also knew that Rhonda wasn't the typical, shallow rich girl and that she had her weaknesses as well as her strengths. Though it took a lot of convincing on Arnold's part, the young woman proved that she could be strong, pull herself together, and didn't need her lavish lifestyle to be happy when she and her family lived in the Sunset Arms. She was a philanthropist who donated her money, time, and other valuable resources to an array of charity organizations, and held annual actions at the Lloyd Manor, placing many of her _own_ items for bidding and then donating all the proceeds to the organization she researched and selected herself. Charities such as Animal Charities of America, KARA, KIVA, The Make A Wish Foundation, The Dream Fund, The Spina Bifida Association, and The Star Legacy Foundation, among others, had all benefitted from the philanthropic efforts of Rhonda. She was bold, charismatic, and stood up for herself and what she believed in.

Helga did too, but most of the time, she did so with an iron fist and got people on her side through fear and intimidation alone.

Arnold sighed deeply as an extra basket of garlic breadsticks arrived with the Caesar salad. Gerald grabbed Phoebe's plate and began scooping some salad, along with a few extra breadsticks onto her plate as Rhonda turned to him with a plate of her own food.

"So Arnold," she said, handing a plate to him, "I know you were busy doing humanitarian work while you were gone, but did you ever make it into any of the large shopping centers? They have them all over the world!"

"No," Arnold answered as he took a plate of Caesar salad and began eating, "I didn't get to do too much shopping while I was gone."

"You're telling me," Rhonda said, her blue-grey eyes widening in alarm as she picked at her food, _"__**That you went without shopping for three years!**_ _How did you do it?"_

"There simply isn't a lot of time to shop when there are people out there who need your help," Arnold shrugged.

"I just can't imagine what it'd be like!" Rhonda exclaimed, "To go without retail therapy for so long!"

Arnold laughed and said, "You find that there's a lot you can do without. I'm sure there were a lot of shopping centers in the high-end, richer parts of the countries I went to. I just didn't see them."

"_Never?"_

The young man shook his head. "For a lot of the countries like the ones my parents and I visited to have those kinds of shops is pretty rare. People who live in developing countries where those shopping centers like that are located are extremely lucky, because that's how they get their income. Jobs like that are few and far between, and the competition for them is always high. Typically a lot of people who shop at those places in the high-end parts of those countries are rich tourists or those who are slated to inherit large fortunes that have been in their families for centuries."

Rhonda dropped her fork, her mouth agape. "What did you do for fun?" she asked, curious.

"I read a lot," he answered. "In Nigeria, I coached a soccer team and worked with an awesome group of seven-year-olds. I was a teacher's assistant in a lot of the English classes there, and sometimes I went with my parents on rescue missions. I was constantly busy, traveling, working, serving people and improving their quality of life."

"You're a bold kid, Arnold," Gerald smiled at him, leaning back in his chair, "A bold kid."

"Did you go to school at all?" Phoebe asked, peering at him through her glasses.

"Of course," Arnold answered, grinning. "The first country my parents and I went to was Brazil, and my parents put me in an Embassy school there at the beginning of September. I didn't really like it, so after that, I was homeschooled, but it's been great. The whole learning process has just been so much more interactive for me that way."

Phoebe smiled wistfully and stared up into the starry sky. "That sounds _wonderful,_" she told him, "Having the opportunity to not only study abroad like you have, but to do it at such a level that you're _actually experiencing_ it."

Arnold nodded. He knew he'd been blessed over the past three years. He had the opportunity to spend quality time with his parents and get to know them even better than he had previously. He got to know them at a level where they were at their happiest: Letting their adventure seeking spirits take them wherever they guided them, traveling the world, and serving mankind. Arnold gained a greater understanding of compassion and service as he and his parents administered health care and numerous forms of medicine, built hospitals, houses, recreation centers, and schools, coached sports teams, played with the children and made their days brighter, provided the people they served with clothing, food, and other household necessities, and set up jobs and opportunities for a university education for the adults, no matter how old or young they were.

The young man returned to Hillwood in gratitude and with a much deeper appreciation for the necessities and luxuries that were ever-present in his life. He returned to the United States with a determination to continue counting his blessings, embracing both the good and bad moments, enjoying life, and helping those who stood in need of it.

Helga need that help now more than ever, and seeing her in her pregnant state made Arnold realize that even those in the most developed of nations stood in need of a little help more often than what people estimated.

Arnold let his thoughts rest on Helga, her predicament, and the fact that so many people even in the land that provided the most opportunities needed care as the large pepperoni pizza and chocolate chip cannoli arrived at their table. He watched as Gerald and Phoebe held hands and glanced at each other lovingly while they ate and as Rhonda merely picked at the food on her plate, not taking any more than a few bites.

It was his first date since he and Ayanna split up, and he found that he didn't have a reason to feel apprehensive about it at all.

He also wondered if he should've stayed in Hillwood, knowing what he knew now.

**III**

Arnold and Gerald, eternal best friends since their first day at Urban Tots Preschool, walked side by side through Tina Park as their dates strolled ahead of them with Rhonda appearing to be furious as she looked back and glared at Arnold before turning back around to compliment Phoebe on her blue dress and beige sweater.

"I know this is a 'double date' we're on," Gerald said, his low voice casual, "But I told Phoebe that I wanted some time to hang out with you. Just the two of us, like in the good old days."

"Haven't we done that already?" Arnold asked, his mind still on Helga. "You stopped my house when I got in from San Lorenzo, we spent all day with the guys," his hands formed into fists when he thought of Sid again, "We went to the arcade yesterday, and now this… not that I don't want to hang out with you, Gerald, because I do, since you're my best friend… it's just…"

"What?" Gerald inquired, pursing his lips and staring at him with his dark eyes. The youthful African American had changed dramatically during the three years of Arnold's absence. He'd grown several inches, still making him taller than Arnold, even though his thick, curly black hair was cut short and no longer reached upward toward the sky. His face was in a constant state of flux and his facial features were becoming angular and more defined, with his cheek and jaw bones beginning to show prominence. He wore a deep blue turtleneck sweater that was taut against his powerfully built upper body, a beige blazer, and pressed khaki pants. Though Gerald _looked_ different, he still retained the same, easygoing, friendly, laid back personality with a cool approach to him that made girls (particularly Phoebe) swoon. "Spill, Arnold. Something's on your mind."

"How do you know?" Arnold laughed slightly as a twinge of nervousness filled him.

"Because _I know you,_ Man," he replied. "We've been best friends for the longest time, and _I know you_ well enough to know when something's up.

Arnold took a deep breath and asked, "Gerald, have you talked to Helga lately?"

Gerald stopped dead in his tracks and asked, "_Why_ would _I_ talk to _Helga Pataki?_"

"Come on, Gerald, I _know_ you talk to her," Arnold said coldly. "I just didn't think my _best friend_ would ignore me whenever I asked about her and how she was doing. Did you think I wouldn't make the effort to visit her after we dated for _three years_ and _still_ remained friends? Did you seriously think that I wouldn't figure it out?" he demanded as his voice rose. "Did you, and everyone else, actually think you all could keep from me the fact that she's _pregnant?_"

When his best friend only continued to stare at him in silence, Arnold said, "I saw her last night, Gerald. I know everything that's going on."

His friend looked at him and said, "I didn't say anything because I didn't know how to tell you. _We_ didn't know how to break it to you… and hey, if it doesn't concern _us,_ and it doesn't concern _you,_ we didn't see the need to say anything."

Not buying Gerald's logic, Arnold questioned angrily, "You _knew_ Sid was the one who got Helga pregnant?"

Gerald nodded slowly. "Phoebe told me, but I didn't say anything to the other guys about it."

"How can Sid think this doesn't concern him?" Arnold fumed. "He's going to be a father, and he's not doing anything to help Helga and their son. Doesn't he realize that Helga gets next to no support?"

He says she doesn't want it, Gerald to him, holding up his hands as if afraid Arnold was going to attack him. Helga Pataki doesn't _want_ help, Arnold! She's _always_ told people she can handle things on her own and that she's never needed it!"

"_Sid's a_ _**liar**__,"_ the young blonde snarled, his fists curling tighter against his skin. _"He's_ _**nothing**_ _but a_ _**liar**__."_

"_Why are you so quick to come to Helga's defense, anyway?"_ Gerald challenged. "For as long as I can remember, she's done _nothing_ but tease you and make your life miserable, and for whatever the reason, you _always _defended her! Helga said she did those things because she loved you and didn't know how to tell you otherwise, but how can _that_ be _love,_ Arnold?"

"It works differently for everybody," the young football headed man answered, shrugging his shoulders. "That's just the way it was, Gerald. Plus, Helga's had a really hard life and has always grown up under the impression that only those who get through this lifetime with a tough as nails disposition get ahead."

"_**Still,**_ _Arnold!"_ Gerald cried out, trying to make sense of everything Arnold told him, "When the two of you were dating, she did _nothing_ but fight, nag, and _find fault_ with _everything_ you did! I thought my dad was the biggest faultfinder around until you and Helga started dating! She proved me wrong in _that_ regard, Arnold!"

"Well, why did you tell her about Ayanna, Gerald?" Arnold queried with darkness. "What _other_ things about me do you say to Helga? What _don't_ you say to her? How would you feel if I told everyone I knew about your relationship with Phoebe?"

Gerald sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, about not being honest with you, Man, and I'm sorry that I told Helga about you and Ayanna. You probably wanted to do that yourself, and I should've allowed you that opportunity. He placed both his hands onto the back of his neck and said, Think about it, Arnold. Do you _really_ love Helga?"

"_If I tell you, will you keep it to yourself?"_

His friend removed his hands from his neck and said, "I won't say a word if you don't want me to."

Arnold eyed him skeptically and said, "Sometimes, I'm not so sure."

"You better be sure," Gerald warned him, "I don't want to see you tied down with taking care of a kid that doesn't belong to you."

The young man rolled his eyes and said, "Helga knows this is something she has to do on her own. Besides, why are you so quick to assume the worst in her, anyway?"

"This is _Helga Pataki_ we're talking about, Arnold."

Arnold shook his head and said, "I already promised I'd be there for her, Gerald. She needs a friend and a strong support system more than ever and I'm _not_ going to back out of that. I'm going to help her."

The two of them watched as their dates began walking toward them in the vast distance, having finished their walk around the park.

Tilting his head to where the two young women were, his eyes reading, _"Whatever you say, Man,"_ Gerald looked at Arnold and said, "You're a _**bold**_ kid, Arnold.

"A _**bold**_ kid."

**IV**

"What can I get you?"

The young man sitting in the booth closest to the counter looked up at the waitress and smiled wanly at her.

Dressed in a white, long sleeved shirt made from spandex, a tight, black and white pinstriped vest, tattered formfitting grey jeans, and scuffed up, white slip-on Vans with the lyrics to Looking For a Kiss by The New York Dolls written all over them in red, green, and blue sharpie, Sid Gifaldi stared up at the waitress and replied, I'll have a chocolate milkshake and an order of cheese fries.

Whitney stared at him with a critical eye and said, "Coming right up," before leaving to go to the back, leaving Sid alone in his thoughts.

The young man took off his green hat, revealing a head full of overflowing, longish black hair. His hair had been stringy and thin all throughout his infancy and most of his childhood, but as he grew older, it thickened rather considerably. He wondered if the waitress recognized him. On more than one occasion, he'd taken the subway into the big city with the secondhand camera he fixed up himself, doing so to hone his photography skills and take photographs of the many landmarks, giant buildings, the vast melting pot of people, and the everyday happenings of city life from various angles.

Oftentimes, he spotted Whitney there, taking pictures herself. Sid learned her name from the many passerby he met there and eventually found out that she was an ambitious university student, busy balancing school and her job with the intent of fast tracking and one day becoming a successful photographer. When going for long walks in the neighborhood, Sid often passed by Slausen's, sometimes stopping to look inside the ice-cream parlor and watch as she and Helga conversed at the counter over brownie sundaes and other delicious delicacies. He knew she and Helga had become good friends since his deliberate abandonment of her.

The young man knew he was being a coward by leaving Helga alone in the trouble he helped her get into, and he was fully aware of the fact that he already failed as a father in so many ways. His child hadn't even entered the world yet, and Sid knew that he'd be in one of the top spots on the list of world's worst fathers by the time he or she was born if he wasn't on it by now.

He ran his hands through his hair as his mind took him to what once was. He vaguely recalled being terrified of Helga during their preschool days, when she instantly established herself as being the class bully. In the very back of his mind, Sid remembered his tactic of staying off Helga's bad side during their days at Urban Tots Preschool: Smile and run. That method stayed with him until it simply didn't work anymore, and it wasn't long before he had to adopt a whole new philosophy to avoid her wrath. At some point, as they grew older with the rest of their preschool class and moved on to the hallways of P.S. 118, he often found himself cowering in her presence, asking that she not hurt him and begging her to keep him intact. This continued for years until Arnold Shortman, in his charming, compassionate, idealistic ways, found himself returning Helga's feelings, which he never knew about, but that Sid himself, and the rest of their classmates, had known of for years.

As Arnold and Helga courted each other, Sid watched as his blonde, pigtailed, unibrowed classmate let down her facade and let those around her meet the _real_ Helga Pataki, the person she kept hidden within the confines of herself for as long as they both could remember. Yet in spite of the newfound softness she displayed more openly, Helga was still tough as nails, outspoken, and could sometimes be obnoxious. One minute, she'd run her hands through Arnold's hair and shower him with sickeningly sweet displays of public affection, and the next, she'd scream at him because he didn't hear her ask for a napkin or for some other reason that proved trivial, and it led to her berating Arnold, telling him he was stupid, and it brought much frustration upon him and made him wonder what he was thinking when he decided he liked Helga Pataki.

Other people were baffled by it too, but Sid found the whole situation to be a rather intriguing enigma, with Helga captivating him most of all.

After Arnold and Helga's relationship spiraled out of control and came to an end, Sid found himself even more puzzled by Helga and the manner in which she dealt with Arnold dumping her. She still remained friends with him, but became more withdrawn, reclusive, regressing back to her bullying ways, but only when she wasn't around Arnold. When he moved away, Helga became even more angsty, despairing, and once again, took upon herself the reputation as the class bully.

However, instead of it drawing Sid away from Helga, it made him all the more curious.

"Your meal's here."

Sid looked up and saw Whitney holding out his chocolate milkshake and cheese fries.

"Thanks," he said monotonously as she placed his meal on the table.

"Can I get you anything else?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"No," the young man answered, once again, letting his face rest in his hands again. "Thanks, though."

"I'll leave the check here whenever you're ready for it," she said. "You take care."

He watched Whitney head back toward the kitchen while he picked at his cheese fries, wondering why the waitress was so suspicious of him. Perhaps she _had_ seen him before while they were both in the big city, taking photographs of the city life. Maybe she'd seen him staring into the window here at Slausen's, watching as she and Helga had one of their numerous conversations. Perchance she knew he was the father, even though he never openly admitted to doing it with Helga. It was possible that she'd figured it out herself. Then again, only a few people knew he was the one responsible for getting her that way. He knew he was damn lucky Wolfgang hadn't told people at school that he was the one who knocked up Helga Pataki, and the only reason the former bully and wannabe football star kept his name under wraps and unattached from Helga's was because he was so impressed by the fact that Sid had actually _done it._

Not even his _parents_ knew.

Sid couldn't bear to bring that shame upon his family. He knew his parents would not only be angry with him, but that they would be disappointed, and that the particular setback would go beyond what actions and vicious words could convey. His father would be even more furious if he knew his son had impregnated the daughter of Bob Pataki. His father still hadn't forgiven the beeper entrepreneur for persuading him, along with many of the other residents of Hillwood, such as Mr. Green and the Lamoreaux's, who owned the city bookstore, and many others just like him, to take part in an oil investment that his assistant had participated in. Helga's father had promised millions to whoever took part in the investments, only for all the money to run dry and have the investment itself be revealed as a fraud.

Sid's father, who'd put forth the vast majority of his savings into the investment hoping to make it big in one fell swoop, was dismayed to find that much of what he worked toward over the years was no more. Many of the others who'd trusted Bob Pataki with a blind eye were angry as well, but were still well enough off that they could make it, while the beeper king himself already rolled around in so much dough that what he contributed toward the fake investment wasn't considered to be a loss to him.

The young man's family, however, were reduced to living paycheck to paycheck as his parents took on more hours at work to rake in more money and start building their savings again. They weren't poor by any means, but they now had to live much more conservatively, and his parents were still working hard to build up their savings, even two years after the fact.

Though his father had made it clear that he loathed Bob Pataki, it didn't stop Sid from finding his daughter's unpredictable personality all the more enticing, especially when they were paired together for school projects and reports over the years.

Sid stirred the straw around in his milkshake before taking a long sip from the delicious ice-cream drink as he continued to remember the way things were. He recalled, as he finished his milkshake quickly and gave himself a brain freeze in the process, the many moments he spent studying with Helga, as she tried to get him to read Stephen King and other horror authors, while he tried to persuade her into thinking that all the conspiracy theories he read up on were true. The young man soon found himself slowly, but surely, attracted to Helga's split personality. He loved never knowing what he was going to get when he was with her. Harold and Stinky had been his friends since infancy, and the three had become quite a trio during their school days, but it was always the same old thing with them, whether it was watching a cartoon marathon at Harold's house or playing cards inside a giant pumpkin Stinky grew in the backyard of his house every few years. Being with them was boring after he spent time with Helga. He relished the moments of randomness he got whenever he was with her.

He loved it. He loved that Helga never felt the need to change herself for others, and he loved that she still kept her pigtails and unibrow as they grew older. He loved her uncompromising stance. The young man never found himself engrossed with her physical appearance, though she'd grown taller, had started developing breasts, and possessed the beginnings of a nice figure honed in their physical education classes and all the walking she did.

Sid found himself wanting Helga because she just was. He appreciated that she always listened to what he had to say and respected his opinions, even when they were different from his own. He liked being with someone whose mind was just as naughty as his was, and with whom he could fancy writing dirty notes and soliloquies with in his Study Skills class.

When Sid found his face and bare, nervous, trembling body wrapped in her naked embrace and his face covered in Helga's overwhelming blonde hair, the scent of her mint and rosemary shampoo mixed with her salty sweat overpowering his senses as he placed himself inside of her, the young man found himself investing in Helga Pataki. As he made love to her that night at Wolfgang's party, with the nineties soft rock clashing horribly with the heavy metal, techno, and neon lights trying to make themselves known inside the temporary sanctuary where the young man gave his all to the young woman he'd known since their preschool days, he thought it was the real deal. Sid knew he wasn't Arnold Shortman, the idealistic, dreaming humanitarian who all but walked on water and once had Helga's heart. However, he'd been friends with Helga over the years, watched her change during that time, found himself appealing to her ever-changing demeanor, and sometimes considered her his best friend.

He invested all that he was into the young woman, and like his father before him, received nothing in return, save for a child who was made in a stupid, compulsive act committed by two young, crazy teenagers who knew better but thought they were the exceptions and could defy the laws of intercourse.

Sid would never admit it, but looking back, he was an idiot to think that Helga would ever move on from Arnold.

After their passionate sex romp, things changed between him and Helga. Despite the two of them remaining study partners, sniggering together in Mr. Johnstone's class, and exchanging Christmas gifts, where he gave her a really expensive set of nice, luxury pens in her favorite color, and him, an extensive anthology of photographs that had appeared in National Geographic, Sid and Helga no longer knew if they could even call themselves friends. He wanted more from her after giving everything he had to her, but she felt that they moved too fast, and seemed regretful of accepting his request to give him a chance. He couldn't accept the repercussions of investing himself in Helga Pataki upon coming to the realization that she didn't feel the same way, and when he figured out that she had envisioned herself doing it with Arnold, as he gave his all to her, he felt doubly slapped.

The young man picked at his cheese fries and leaned back, putting his hands to his forehead. He had a headache. Breathing deeply as he attempted to rationalize his reasons behind abandoning Helga and their child, he found he couldn't do it.

He tried, telling himself that he couldn't bring such a great dishonor upon his family and that he didn't want to face the wrath of his father, _or_ Bob Pataki. He had to change his entire walking route just to avoid walking past Big Bob's Beepers, and even then, he still feared the imposing businessman would come after him.

Sid tried again, telling himself that he couldn't be a good parent the way he was. He was only fourteen when he got Helga pregnant, and despite being a year older, felt that he was just a kid himself; how was he supposed to raise one? How was he supposed to be a good father when people his age couldn't drive a car or get employment?

How was he supposed to be a good father when he devoted all that he was to the child's mother, only to get shut down in return, even after she promised him that she was open to pursuing their friendship at a higher, more intimate level? He didn't think he could be the father he was supposed to be to his child, knowing who his mother was, how she had lied to him, and how she hurt him.

Lastly, how was he supposed to give even _more_ of himself to a child, in spite of giving _everything_ of himself to Helga? Sid couldn't picture himself devoting everything to a child that was conceived as Helga envisioned not _him, _but _Arnold,_ wrapped in her arms instead.

Did Helga realize how much she had destroyed him?

The young man put his face in his hands as a sick feeling rose in his stomach and made its way up his throat. Bolting to the restrooms in the back, he found himself kneeling before the first toilet he saw and vomited.

Leaning against the toilet, panting, and in a cold sweat, Sid clutched his stomach and looked toward the ceiling, feeling the color drain from his face.

Sid walked out on Helga and their child telling her that he couldn't be a good father. He did so, not wanting to bring embarrassment to his own family. He abandoned his child knowing the circumstances in which it was made.

The young man knew these were all terrible excuses.

However, he sometimes wondered if he walked out on Helga and their child wanting her to know how it felt to hurt the way he did.

Sometimes he wondered if that was the main reason, and it made him sick.

He turned around and vomited again. After exhaling slowly several times, he flushed the toilet, washed his hands, splashed some cold water on his face, and walked out of the restroom and to the counter at Slausen's, knowing he looked like death.

"Could I get a box for my cheese fries?" he asked Whitney tiredly, hoping she wouldn't stare at him or ask questions.

However, all she did was nod, and hand him a box.

Sid thanked her and walked back to his table, hastily scooping the remainder of his cheese fries into the box before looking at the bill.

The young man had always loved Slausen's for its reasonable prices.

Placing a twenty-dollar bill onto the table, which covered the cost of the milkshake and fries and still left a good tip, he walked out of Slausen's and sighed, knowing he could not rationalize the abandonment of Helga and their child, but at the same time, not wanting to give more of himself after everything he offered of himself was for naught.

Sid Gifaldi failed as a father in more ways than one, and he knew it better than anybody else.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the lyrics to the song "More Than This", which were written by Bryan Ferry. I also do not own the original recording performed by Roxy Music or Norah Jones' cover version of the song. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	7. Nowhere Man

**Chapter VII: Nowhere Man**

_He's a real nowhere man  
Sitting in his Nowhere Land  
Making all his nowhere plans  
__For nobody_

_Doesn't have a point of view  
Knows not where he's going to_

_He's as blind as he can be  
Just sees what he wants to see_

_Nowhere Man, you don't know what you're missing_

~The Beatles, "Nowhere Man"~

* * *

**I**

The sun shone against a vivid blue, cloudless sky, a few seagulls cried in the distance, and a slight, brackish breeze blew through the air as Sid Gifaldi sat crossed legged on the sands of Monterey Bay. His longish, raven hair, which was in desperate need of a haircut, flew into his face and dark brown eyes. The young man's faded blue jeans were rolled up tightly to his knees and were taut against his thin upper legs. He was shirtless, allowing the rays of the sun and the scent of the salty sea, sand, and wood to soak into his bare skin, hoping that he'd acquire additional color to his already tanned complexion. Despite his hair being in the way, the young man remained focused on the task ahead of him. Since arriving at his Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora's beach house two weeks ago, he spent everyday on the beach fine tuning his uncle's old, beige colored, acoustic guitar covered with faded bumper stickers super glued sloppily onto the instrument, all while listening to the rock station on the portable radio he brought with him. Sid gave a slight smile as he continued working on the instrument, hoping to _finally_ be able to play his favorite Beatles song, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" without it sounding out of sync in accordance with its original melody. He also wanted to arrange some acoustic versions of songs by The New York Dolls and The Rolling Stones, and hoped the old guitar would be able to serve him well once he finished his work.

His parents, bless their hearts, sent their son to Monterey, California, for the month of June upon noticing his pallid, sickly demeanor after his trip guilt at Slausen's. Though they didn't know the circumstances that brought about this change in their son and were still clueless to the fact that they were going to be grandparents, the two of them felt that Sid hadn't been himself for some time. Even though money was still tight, the couple felt that their son needed a much needed change of both pace and scenery. Sid's father called and asked his older brother if his son could come stay with him and his wife, and they agreed.

The month long visit was the first time in ten years that Sid last visited the beautiful, historic beach city. He enjoyed listening to his aunt and uncle reminisce about their younger years, and the teenager often found himself turning green with envy upon hearing his uncle's stories about the crazy happenings he witnessed at rock concerts and "making" history with the numerous protests and rallies they attended, living a carefree, uncomplicated life, not having to worry about the problems he already faced at the young age of fifteen. Sid enjoyed spending his days at the beach, his evenings downtown, and keeping his cell phone off, refusing to call or text anyone back in Hillwood, because he craved his space, the solitude, and the need to get away, _that much._

After adjusting one of the strings on the old guitar, he played the introductory cords to "While My Guitar Gently Weeps", but still found the arrangement of the cords to be off. He resumed rearranging them yet again when the opening lyrics of the song "Nowhere Man" by The Beatles began playing on the radio. To his irritation, the song lyrics found their way into the young man's mind, and try as he might, he could not suppress them. Though Sid loved The Beatles, he hated that song with a passion.

Ironically, however, it was the one song that perfectly described him at the present time, as well as his current predicament.

The young man gritted his teeth in frustration and turned off the radio angrily, knowing that the underrated Beatles song hit too close to home. He was a soon-to-be teenage father at the young age of fifteen, knowing fully well that he wasn't being the man he should be. Despite the overwhelming guilt that lurked around and within him, eating away at both his physical and mental well-being, the naïve, selfish teenager still relished in the fact that he had an entire month to get away from the real world and everything back home. Meanwhile, Helga Pataki, the mother of his unborn child, had to face everything because she was the mandatory figure to carry their child and deliver him or her. Sid knew their child would still be born whether he was involved or not, and since walking out on Helga, knew little of her and what she was up to. Like the "Nowhere Man" in the song Sid despised, but needed to hear in spite of turning off the radio, the young man wasn't getting anywhere in life and had yet to make any plans for his future. He was scared to look ahead and list the possibilities of what he could accomplish, knowing that at some point, the guilt would eat away at his entire being, eventually leading to a million different kinds of destruction. Sid was so out of the loop with Helga that he didn't even know if he was going to have a son or a daughter. To his complete astonishment, Sid often found himself compiling a list of possible names for his unborn child, despite not being in the picture. He loved the idea of using the name George Harrison Gifaldi as a tribute to his favorite Beatle and also liked Sylvain Jude after Sylvain Sylvain of The New York Dolls and the classic Beatles song. However, he knew that Helga would prefer to name the child after a literary figure or a writer, and would give the child _her_ surname name instead of his.

Not that he blamed her.

The young man knew it was his own fault and that he needed to step up to the plate. There were no excuses, but why let himself in _now?_

After all, Arnold was back.

As Sid resumed his work on of readjusting the strings on his uncle's vintage guitar, he realized he could no longer deny the inevitable.

Arnold Shortman was more of a man than he ever would be. Sid knew it was only a matter of time before his optimistic childhood friend learned of Helga's predicament when instead of enjoying the carefree summer day playing baseball and video games at the arcade, riding all the rides at Dinoland, and watching a movie at Lorenzo's while stuffing their faces with an obscene amount of junk food, inquired about Helga and how she was doing. He refused to let the subject drop even when it became apparent that the guys, including his best friend Gerald, grew irritated of his question. Nobody knew how to tell Arnold that his ex-girlfriend was with child, and so they found it easier to simply tell him that she was fine. Like his friends, Sid was also at a complete loss and had no idea how to tell him of the peril Helga was in.

In addition, the young man had _no_ idea how to tell his friend, or the other guys for that matter, that _he_ was the one who made Helga that way.

Though he would never admit to it, Sid looked up to Arnold for as long as he could remember. The football headed teenager was a good listener, compassionate, hardworking, kind, loyal, and possessed an unusual ability that allowed him to get along with everyone he came into contact with.

Additionally, Arnold had always been there to help Sid whenever he needed it, even when it meant getting himself into trouble. The upcoming father knew that though Arnold and Helga no longer dated, the two still remained friends. Arnold wrote to Helga even though she never responded and Sid knew the young man was intent on seeing her upon his return to Hillwood.

Arnold had to know she was pregnant by now, and chances were that he'd be the man everyone knew always had been and support Helga through the ordeal. Arnold probably knew more about the situation than Sid, _the father_ of the child did.

Sid knew from the beginning that he was being a coward for choosing not to support Helga and their child. When she informed him of the pregnancy that February afternoon, the shocked, irrational teenager and imminent father knew Helga needed him more than she would ever care to admit. He also knew she needed him more than ever. Yet, the young man walked away, and she let him, knowing that if she forced his involvement, that his heart wouldn't be fully devoted to their child.

The guilty teenager didn't want to admit it in his own spinelessness, but he knew she was right. After feeling as though his _heart_ and _everything else_ he put on the line for her was beaten and left for dead, he couldn't bring himself to offer _even more_ of who he was to the young woman he dedicated himself to, only for her to reject him. He couldn't give more of himself after he gave his all, only for her to have played with his emotions like a master puppeteer who cut off the strings and left him to fall when she decided that he wasn't good enough.

Helga G. Pataki's part in this unplanned pregnancy, in the utter mess they got themselves into, wasn't blameless by any means. Yet, she would forever be seen as the casualty, and he, the coldhearted villain.

The young man shook his head and contorted his face into a glare as he continued working on the guitar. He knew people would merely take his refusal to be involved at face value and doubt that there was so much more to the situation than what they'd see at the surface.

"Villains" had stories too.

Would _his_ ever be heard?

Though Sid despaired over the manner in which Helga led him to fail romantically, he found it impossible to support someone who used her feelings for someone else against him.

_After all, the_ _**only**_ _person who would_ _**ever**_ _be good enough for Helga was a green-eyed, idealistic, football-headed, nearly perfect dreamer._

Sid didn't hate Arnold, but he despised the fact that _he_ was the _only person_ deemed as worthy in Helga's eyes, even when he was oceans away from her, dating other girls, and never appeared to be interested in her beyond friendship after their fickle, anxiety-filled dating years. The young man hated that even though he knew she didn't love him the way she loved Arnold, he still let himself fall for her. He hated the knowledge he possessed pertaining to the conception of his child with the sharp, ostentatious, yet alluring, young woman.

His son or daughter was the result of _her ulterior motives_ and the fact that _he was blinded by both love and stupidity._

Did it matter?

Did she need him now that Arnold was back?

The young man rolled his eyes upward to the blue sky and sighed deeply, forcing himself to focus on his uncle's guitar, which lay in his lap in front of him. Though he knew his thoughts should've been focused on the well-being of the person carrying his child, he chose not to let his thoughts dwell there, knowing that doing so would only provoke feelings of helplessness, jealousy, and remorse within him.

When he finished tweaking the strings on the old vintage guitar, Sid strummed his calloused fingers along the instrument, and started playing the beginning of the song "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". Upon realizing that the classic guitar sounded in tune, the crazed teenager let out a soft laugh, happy that he could _finally_ play the instrument. A wide smile formed upon his lips as he closed his eyes and let his slender frame fall upon the sand. While the rays from the burning sun beat down upon his body, Sid allowed himself to get lost in the music, playing the guitar with more intensity and passion as the lyrics to the critically acclaimed song formed upon his lips.

_**I don't know why nobody told you**_

_**How to unfold you love**_

_**I don't know how someone controlled you**_

_**They bought and sold you**_

When the words of the second stanza escaped from his mouth and let itself sink into the thick saline air, Sid sat up abruptly, coughing and gasping for air as the realization that he _bought_ and _sold_ Helga Pataki came to him. He felt overwhelmed and tried to be calm by taking several deep breaths, but to no avail.

He was frantic.

While it was true that she advertised herself in front of him by leading him along, _he_ was the one who _acquired all that she was and everything she sacrificed,_ only to sell it back for _far below _the lowest possible price after the outcome – _deliberate rejection,_ was far from desirable.

_A child,_ an _actual living person_ growing inside Helga's womb was made that night as well, and the fact only complicated matters. Despite his lack of participation and reasons for staying out of the picture, as stupid as they were, he knew his future son or daughter was _far more valuable_ than _anything_ he possessed and yearned to have within his grasp at that particular moment in time.

_**I look at the world and I notice it's turning**_

_**While my guitar gently weeps**_

_**With every mistake we must surely be learning**_

_**Still my guitar gently weeps**_

While Sid contemplated his life and his actions, life continued to go on and the world kept on turning. His parents still worked long hours at their jobs and still struggled financially. Gerald never ceased being the cool kid, Phoebe the brain, and Sheena the flower child. Eugene kept his passion for musicals, Iggy kept trying to make his way into the top circle of the underclass hierarchy, Joey Stevenson still had a few teeth missing, Nadine kept finding new bugs all around her, and Rhonda continued to be fashionable, with both Harold and Curly pining for her affections. Stinky and Lila both found common ground in yearning for their country roots and Arnold Shortman made a "triumphal return". He was welcomed back by all who knew him while Helga still had to face the repercussions he participated in alone, even with Arnold's help.

Meanwhile, the prospect of fatherhood constantly loomed over him despite telling Helga he wanted no part in their child's life. He wanted her, but longed for her to hurt at the same time, even when revenge came with the price of constant guilt that plagued him to the point of making him physically ill.

He exhaled slowly and stopped playing the guitar. Placing the old instrument onto the warm sand in front of him, the irresponsible teenager scratched his head, his black hair filled with sand and the smell of ocean. Swallowing the foul-tasting bile that built up in the back of his throat, Sid felt a wave of exhaustion come over him, along with a wanting to return to the beach house. The young man stood and stretched his limbs, reaching his arms toward the azure sky before picking up the guitar and portable radio, which remained off. As the young man began the walk to his aunt and uncle's beach house, he found the full gravity of his situation repeatedly hitting him.

He was in a tough situation, knowing he needed to take initiative despite Arnold Shortman's probable newfound presence in Helga's life. Instead, he ran away from the situation like a vulnerable weakling.

Sid Gifaldi was learning firsthand what guilt could actually _do_ to a person and the kind of man he was becoming since he learned that he'd gotten Helga pregnant.

_**He's a real Nowhere Man,**_

_**Sitting in his Nowhere Land**_

_**Making all his Nowhere plans**_

_**For nobody**_

_**Doesn't have a point of view**_

_**Knows not where he's going to**_

_**He's as blind as he can be**_

_**Just sees what he wants to see**_

He was a _real_ nowhere man incapable of understanding all he was losing out on.

_**Nowhere Man, you don't know what you're missing**_

**II**

"Helga?"

The young woman shook her head and sighed, turning to face Doctor Bliss, her kind and understanding psychologist, from where she sat upon the purple couch across from her. Her left leg was buried beneath her while the other dangled off the side of the couch. The brim of the young woman's navy blue cap fell into her eyes just slightly. Her hands rested on her lower abdomen, which continued to grow outward at an alarming rate despite there being no room for it to expand. Her large stomach made her long sleeved, white shirt, which was one of the very few articles of clothing that still fit her, itchy and tight against her skin, causing her body to perspire. Helga's blue eyes gazed upward toward the large clock above the door, showing that there were still fifty-two minutes left in the session. The young woman slumped her shoulders, longing for the session to be over. She was bloated, tired, wearing clothes that grew tighter by the moment, and her son chose, of all times and places, her counseling session with Doctor Bliss to start break dancing wildly on her bladder.

She was _**not**_ **i**n a good mood.

"Helga, are you okay?" Doctor Bliss inquired, sitting on the long, purple couch next to Helga. The understanding woman put her arm around Helga's shoulders and said, "Is there anything in particular you want to talk to me about?"

The pregnant adolescent stared at her psychologist and shrugged before shaking her head wearily, only wanting to have a brownie sundae at Slausen's before remembering that Whitney was on a three week holiday in San Diego, California, which was located in southernmost part of the Golden State, visiting a close friend of hers after finishing her final exams, and wasn't working at the ice-cream parlor for the time being. She could go home, but hated it there, or she could see Arnold or Phoebe. However, Phoebe was volunteering at the library, and shortly after arriving in Hillwood, Arnold started working at a soccer day camp for children in Arouet County. The young woman had nowhere else to go for the time being.

"Helga," Doctor Bliss said, standing up, "The time has come for us to discuss your options."

"_Options?"_ Helga snorted, "_What_ options? We've been over this _several_ times already!" She got up from her seat on the couch and waddled over to the bookshelf with an unshakable stubbornness encompassing her being. She took two pink gumballs and put them in her mouth. Chewing, she said, "Bob hired a nanny to take care of him while I'm at school and doing my homework. She's coming a week before my due date and will be living with us." Taking a deep breath, she said, "That nanny was the _only_ way I could stay at Hillwood High School."

Shortly after the students and faculty at Hillwood High School learned that Helga was pregnant, the school principal suggested to her mother and father that she immediately transfer to Friedrich Nietzsche Alternative High School as the place to finish her secondary education. The alternative high school was the institution where students lacking the sufficient credits, expectant mothers, teenage parents, and those going through rehabilitation attended. Bob vehemently opposed the idea of his daughter attending school there, and Mr. Simmons, not wanting to lose his brightest student, negotiated a deal with the school principal. He asked that Helga be allowed to complete her freshman year at Hillwood High School and allow her the time to find childcare for when the following school year started. Though it pained him to do this, the caring teacher saw from an educator's perspective how attending a school that provided daycare would be much more beneficial to Helga, and asked that she only be transferred to the Friedrich Nietzsche Alternative High School if she couldn't find the necessary childcare for her child.

Since then, Helga had been eternally grateful to the teacher who'd seen her through the majority of her primary education and continued to be there for his first group of students.

Helga eyed Doctor Bliss from her stance at the bookshelf. The psychologist nodded after Helga finished speaking and said, "I have your transcript from the previous school year." She held it up in front of her as she surveyed it and said, "Last year, you were enrolled in Biology, Creative Writing, English and Geometry Honors, French III Honors, and Physical Education. Your grades were very impressive and you received a 4.0 grade point average. Mr. Simmons, who taught you in both Creative Writing and English I Honors, spoke extremely highly of you and finds you to be immensely talented with an outstanding understanding of the English language. Your other teachers found you to be bright, gifted, and well-spoken, though they said you could also be loudmouthed and extremely stubborn as well."

"What are you saying?" Helga inquired, her voice defensive. She folded her arms and eyed Doctor Bliss with a pointed glance, waiting for her reply.

"Will you be capable of maintaining this grade point average with your son at home?"

"_**Yes,"**_ Helga insisted as she felt her son flailing his body against the inside of her abdomen. "I can do it."

"It's easier said than done, Helga," Doctor Bliss countered, her voice an odd mixture of both calm and bluntness. "You're one of the very few young women in this situation who are fortunate enough to have a strong support system. Most girls, upon becoming pregnant, find that they no longer have the support of their families, finding themselves forced to make ends meet on their own. While it is true that you have the support of your family now, how long will that last? Will your parents expect you to begin pulling your own weight once you turn sixteen and are able to seek some form of employment?

"Since you're keeping your son, Helga, you'll be spending the rest of your high school career as a teenage mother," the psychologist said, setting aside Helga's high school transcript on the coffee table next to the art book on Claude Monet. Next to the art book was Helga's four-year plan she filled out at the beginning of her first semester of high school. Doctor Bliss picked it up and said, "For your sophomore year of high school, you're enrolled in Chemistry, English II Honors, Advanced Placement French, Advanced Placement World History, Algebra II and Trigonometry, and Physical Education. According to your four-year plan, you'll be enrolled in numerous Advanced Placement courses. When you're not in school or working, you'll be completing your homework and studying for exams. You're an intelligent young woman Helga, but these classes will require _much_ of your time and energy. This will leave you with _very little_, _if any_, free time to spend time with friends and pursue your interests.

"You're putting yourself in a very adult situation at such a young age, Helga. _Are you_ _**sure**_ _you're_ _**ready**_ _for this_ _**great responsibility?**__"_

Helga felt the little color she still had in her face disappear. She frowned and responded defiantly, "_I am._ Olga already bought everything for him and set it up."

"_Exactly,"_ Doctor Bliss replied. "_Your sister_ bought your son's necessities. _You didn't."_

The silence in the air spoke volumes as the young, expectant mother found herself fuming. Grimacing as she unfolded her arms and placed her hands on her stomach, she felt the vibrations of her son moving about tranquilly inside her. Helga was so attached, and so in tune with her child and already felt that she knew him perfectly even though she had yet to see his face.

She found him to be particularly happy after reading the works of Dave Eggers Arnold lent to her. His favorite was _Your Disgusting Head_.

Though Helga enjoyed the eclectic author, her favorite literary work was still Anthony Trollope's finest work, _The Way We Live Now_. After reading from the sardonic novel everyday and noticing her son enjoyed the novel as well, the young woman chose to name him Paul, after her favorite character in the novel. Paul Montague was a young, ambitious engineer determined to be with his true love, Henrietta Carbury in spite of all the opposition facing the two of them; and though she would never say so out loud, her son's name was also a tribute to her beloved, Arnold. Since reading _The Way We Live Now_ multiple times, Helga _always_ pictured him in the role of Paul Montague, and hoped her love would hold the fact that he was apart of her unborn child's namesake in the highest regard.

"_I love this baby,"_ Helga said quietly, looking down at her stomach.

"Yes, and while that's true, Helga, you love the idea of being a mother so much that it's preventing you from seeing the bigger picture," Doctor Bliss informed her, placing the young woman's four-year plan onto the coffee table. She got up from her seat, and went over to the large bookshelf to stand next to Helga. "Once you become a parent," she said to Helga, "Your priorities will _completely_ realign and you'll have to think about your son in _every decision_ you make. _Your choices will affect him for many years to come._ Children are blessings, Helga, but being a good parent requires sacrifice. While it's true that many teenage mothers found success in their future lives, it came with a heavy price and required them to put aside _their own_ wants and needs for the good of their children. Since your son's father isn't in the picture, you'll be taking on the role of being _both a_ _**mother**_ _and a_ _**father**_ _to your child._ This will require planning ahead and shifting your priorities."

"You said it wasn't impossible," Helga rationalized, her eyes still focused downward. "People work, attend university, and are _still_ able to make time for their children. Some of them can even see their friends too." The young woman looked up and said, "Sure, it'll mean that I'll have to attend State instead of attending university far from here like I always wanted to, but it's a sacrifice I can make! It'll just mean a few more years before I can leave. I'll work really hard, go to university year round so I can graduate faster, and once I'm done, Paul and I will move out and start our lives together."

"Helga," Doctor Bliss said, "You _know_ reality is far from that. The documentaries you've watched on teenage pregnancy aren't entirely truthful despite their claims. In fact, the way in which the media glorifies teenage pregnancy is inappropriate and has to stop." The psychologist paused, and staring straight into Helga's eyes, asked, "Have you _really_ considered what you'd be doing to your son if you stayed here for your university years and had this nanny take care of him, provided that you're privileged enough to still have your family's support?"

The young woman shook her head and mumbled, "I didn't think about that."

"Will you _really_ know your son and will you _truly_ be able to call yourself _his parent_ if you're going to have a nanny raise him for at least half his childhood? You say that your son will love you unconditionally, but why else are you keeping him? Is that _really_ your _true motive_ for wanting your son? Will he be impressed by the fact that a _nanny_ raised him instead of his _own mother?_"

"Look," Helga told Doctor Bliss coldly, glaring at her as she repressed the fact she knew all too well concerning her son's potential feelings about her parenting, "_I know_ there are sacrifices I have to make and _I know_ that I'll have to work really hard, but what _good things_ in life are _free?_" She walked backward toward the purple couch and said, "My son is already _so valuable_ to me, and we _both_ know that _people,_ things of worth come with a _price_. I can pay that!" she justified as the sound of something falling rang through her ears. Helga looked down and noticed several leather, hardbound books scattered across the floor.

"I'm sorry," Helga apologized, as she slowly bent down to pick up the books with help from Doctor Bliss.

"It's all right, Helga," the compassionate psychologist assured her. "Accidents happen."

The young woman blushed as she handed the books to Doctor Bliss. She turned her body slightly and noticed that one book still remained open on the floor. Positioning her swollen, pregnant body in front of the book and bringing her legs in toward her so she sat cross-legged, Helga's mouth fell open and her cerulean eyes widened when they fell upon a black and white photograph of a young, attractive couple with the brightest smiles upon their faces staring back at her.

Picking up the book with trembling hands, Helga inspected the picture in more detail and showed it to Doctor Bliss.

"What's this?" she asked curiously, handing the book to her psychologist.

"These are profiles about couples wanting to pursue adoption," Doctor Bliss answered, indicating to the books she held in her arms. "Every year since I've been practicing here in Hillwood, social workers have dropped by many adoption profiles in the event that I have any teenage clients who are pregnant. Of course, you're the very first who's been in this particular situation." She paused and continued, "I know you don't plan on going this route, but it wouldn't hurt to look."

Helga's breath caught in her throat and it took a few minutes for her to come up with an adequate response.

"Oh… o – okay," she sputtered, her voice both skeptical and thick with emotion. She held her arms out with reluctance and added, wanting to sound stronger than she really was, _"I'll look, but I won't find anything."_

After Doctor Bliss placed the books into Helga's arms, the young woman thanked her psychologist and shuffled out of the room, feeling even more bloated, tired, and as though her clothes were going to rip apart at any moment. It also didn't help that her son's head now rested directly upon her bladder, making it hard for her to move even a single inch and that her psychologist gave her a suggestion so ludicrous, so self-centered, and incomprehensible.

_How could Doctor Bliss expect Helga to give up her child?_

Holding the books against her chest and in her arms as she waited at the bus stop, Helga thought to herself, _"If Doctor Bliss and anyone else think I'm going to_ _**give up my child,**_ _they're wrong!"_

Just because she was taking the books home, it didn't mean she had to look at them.

She didn't want to give up her wish of being loved unconditionally, despite the likelihood that the love would eventually run out, leaving her son to despise her.

_She would not do it._

**III**

Doctor Irene Bliss put her head in her hands, rubbing her temples vigorously, and sighed. This had been a very intense session with Helga, where she told the troubled young woman what she _needed_ to hear even though she didn't _want_ to.

Strolling across her office to open the large window, she watched Helga stand at the bus stop with the adoption profiles in her arms, waiting for her ride home. Irene hoped the conflicted teenager would make the right decision.

Looking upward, the psychologist came to the realization that a talk with Helga's family was _long_ overdue.

It was no wonder Helga couldn't contemplate what it took to raise a family and be a good parent. She _never_ experienced a stable home life. Though her mother helped her at the beginning, she pulled away at his husband's retaliation, opting to become absorbed in her career, leaving Helga to find the help she so desperately needed elsewhere.

_"Yes,"_ Irene decided to herself, _"It's time that Helga's family stepped up to the plate."_

**IV**

As a vibrant sunset with clear, brilliant colors in shades of blue, pink, purple, orange, and red danced across the sky over Monterey, Sid Gifaldi stood in his uncle and aunt's kitchen, watching the sunset from where he stood behind the kitchen counter. The young man was now fully dressed, wearing a pair of frayed, red skinny jeans and a tight black shirt that was too small for him. His hair was washed, and a little shorter, having gotten it cut after his beach excursion.

His Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora both sat at the kitchen table to the right of the counter, wearing perplexed, disappointed looks on their faces.

Cradling the phone with both his head and neck, Sid didn't expect anyone at home to pick up with the long hours both his parents worked, so he was presently surprised to hear his father's voice on the other line.

"_Dad? It's Sid. I'm coming home."_

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the lyrics to the song "Nowhere Man" written by John Lennon/Paul McCartney and performed by The Beatles. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	8. Blame It On The Rain

**Chapter VIII: Blame It On The Rain**

_You got me caught in all this mess_  
_I guess we can blame it on the rain_  
_My pain is knowing I can't have you_  
_I can't have you_

_Tell me_  
_Does she look at you the way I do?_  
_Try to understand the words you say_  
_And the way you move?_  
_Does she get the same big rush?_  
_When you go in for a hug and your cheeks brush?_  
_Tell me am I crazy?_  
_Am I crazy?_

_I catch my breath_  
_The one you took the moment you entered the room_  
_My heart, it breaks at the thought_  
_Of her holding you_

_Does she look at you the way I do?_  
_Try to understand the words you say_  
_And the way you move?_  
_Does she get the same big rush?_  
_When you go in for a hug and your cheeks brush?_  
_Tell me am I crazy?_  
_Or is this more than a crush?_  
**  
**~He Is We, "Blame It On The Rain"~

* * *

**I**

Helga fidgeted as she stood at the bus stop, rearranging the books in her arms that kept threatening to fall from her grasp. A slight breeze was apparent in the air, having replaced the hot sun and cloudless sky with clouds of grey, foreshadowing a potential storm. The wind nipped harshly at her face, causing her lips to dry and her navy blue cap to nearly blow away in the wind. She placed her left hand on her head and tried, albeit haphazardly, to keep the adoption profiles, which kept slipping, nearly falling to the ground in the process, nestled in the crook of her right arm. She brought the books in close and held them tightly against her chest after preventing them from dropping to the ground yet again. Helga crossed her legs tightly and shut her eyes as her son continued kicking and thrashing his body frantically against her swollen belly. The young woman groaned inwardly, feeling as though her bladder was going to explode at any given moment.

Her cerulean eyes snapped open in shock upon hearing loud bouts of thunder sound all throughout Hillwood. She cried out in both frustration and fear, when a heavy rain began falling all around and on her, causing the adoption profiles in her arms to stumble out of her arms and onto the pavement in front of her.

"_Of course,"_ Helga muttered cynically as she looked down at the books on the sidewalk, becoming drenched from the wetness of the rain. _"Things can't get any worse,"_ she said with dripping sarcasm as dropped to her knees rather abruptly, provoking her child to kick her furiously from the inside. Feeling as though every fiber of her being was going to detonate at any given moment, she began picking up the adoption profiles, wiping them down with the sleeve of her shirt, drenching it in the process. The young woman was completely soaked, and her face was wet, though she was unsure whether it was the rain or her own tears that made it that way.

As if things weren't horrible enough already, an obnoxious driver in a bright green minivan drove past her, revving the engine, splashing her with mud and gutter water in the process, getting the sludge all over her white shirt, hat, and in her straw colored hair.

Her lips began quivering as she struggled to get up while holding the books, but to no avail. She resigned herself to sitting in the muck as the rain continued soaking her, feeling unmotivated to move.

The bus never showed up.

She took slow, deep breaths, trying to keep calm, failing miserably in the process. She chose to let her tears fall and immerse her body in them, allowing herself to become covered with sorrow.

_Is this what the low_ _**really**_ _felt like?_

Was it being neglected, unloved, and told to give up the _only_ chance of love within her grasp?

Determined to get herself out of the mud when the bus came, _if_ the bus ever showed up, Helga wrapped her other arm around the adoption profiles and arched her feet in an attempt to stand up as the rain continued falling.

However, the slippery sidewalk averted her feet from rising up with the rest of her body, and she found herself slumped to the ground yet again, the grime and filth from the mud soaking into her jeans and sneakers.

_This was the lowest point._

_It was being unable to get up after she fell down._

At that point, she'd grown accustomed to the rain and dirt soaking into her clothing and bare skin that she was surprised when suddenly, the rain seemed to cease. She looked up, noticing that a large blue umbrella kept her sheltered from the storm outside. Though she looked downward, her blue eyes rested on Arnold Shortman, kneeling next to her, holding the umbrella. He wore a grim expression upon his face as the rain began soaking his blonde hair, little blue hat, and the red polo shirt and khaki shorts he was dressed in.

"A – Arnold?" Helga sputtered, holding the books close to her chest, "I – I thought you had work today."

"I did," the young man replied, his voice filled with seriousness. "The rain came into Arouet County right after my shift ended."

He handed the umbrella to Helga and took his backpack off, keeping it underneath the shade of the contraption as he unzipped it. Pulling out a black zip-up sweatshirt, the young man handed it to Helga and held out his hands, indicating for her to hand him the umbrella and books as she put the sweatshirt on. Holding the umbrella in one hand, Arnold used the other to place the books into his backpack, which he then strung over his shoulders.

When Helga finished putting the sweatshirt on, Arnold held his hand out to her again and helped her up.

Keeping her protected from the tempest, the young man inquired, his voice filled with both gentleness and concern, "What happened to you, Helga?"

"_A bunch of stupid crap,"_ Helga said darkly as she began shivering despite the extra warmth.

Arnold nodded, and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

The young woman shook her head.

"Okay," Arnold responded understandingly, "Let's get you home."

He put his hand out and waved down a taxi, which approached rapidly, ensuring not to splash its imminent occupants. After opening the door for her, Arnold climbed inside the tab, taking off his backpack in the process. After shutting the door behind him and putting on his seatbelt, he opened his backpack and pulled out a bright red seventy-two hour kit. Once it was opened, he pulled out a blanket, which he unfolded and placed over Helga's knees, and handed her a packet of peanut butter crackers.

"Thanks Arnold," Helga mumbled quietly, feeling herself blush as she opened the packet of crackers and began munching on them. The two of them spent the rest of the cab ride home in silence, with Arnold staring out the window, seeming to be deep in thought, and Helga, eating the crackers hungrily. When they reached her house, Arnold paid the cab driver and helped Helga out of the car after getting his backpack organized. It was no longer raining, but the weather was still windy, with grey skies and clouds still covering the sun.

When they stepped inside Helga's house, she and Arnold were greeted to nothing but silence, indicating that no one was home.

Helga took off the sweatshirt Arnold let her borrow and looked down at her stained clothes and shoes, humiliated.

As if reading her mind, Arnold put a reassuring hand on her shoulder after taking his sweatshirt back and said, "I'll take care of it."

The young woman nodded wordlessly and motioned for Arnold to follow her upstairs. She stepped into her room and got a change of clothes from her closet, shooting a despairing glance toward the crib and changing table still positioned against the wall across from her bed.

Arnold, who waited outside her bedroom, said, "I'll stay and keep you company until your parents get home. Is that okay?"

Helga gave Arnold a slight smile and nodded before she entered the bathroom. Shutting the door, the young woman peeled the wet, muddy clothes off her body, took off her hat and twisted the water out of it over the sink before letting it drop to her feet as well. Upon letting her blonde hair down, and watching as it fell loosely down her back, she looked at herself in the mirror and wanted to cry. Her flaxen hair was frizzy, caked with mud, and in desperate need of a trim. Her complexion was still pale and her acne inflamed and red. Her stomach was large, round, covered in red and purple crooked lines like an outdated roadmap, and her legs displayed an array of blue, fleshy varicose veins. Her belly stood outward, preventing her from seeing her knees and feet. She folded her arms over her engorged breasts and breathed deeply, not wanting to lose her cool with Arnold nearby. Keeping one hand on the sink for support and balance, she bent down and gathered her grungy shirt, jeans, hat, and shoes before standing up and throwing them outside, knowing Arnold would be there to catch them. Before hopping into the shower, she placed her bra, socks, and underwear into the dirty clothes hamper next to the sink and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water and steam engulf her.

She washed her hair with her trademark mint and rosemary shampoo and conditioner three times to ensure that all the muck was gone, and used the entire bottle of her geranium and lemon shower gel to clean every inch and crevice in her body. After cleansing herself and shaving, she simply stood in the shower for a few minutes and let the heated water engulf her. However, she didn't want to keep Arnold waiting, so she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in her favorite pink bathrobe after using an all-over body deodorant and lotion to moisturize her body. She blow dried her hair with haste and dressed quickly, wearing a pair of black sweatpants and an old lavender shirt that barely covered her stomach and was tight on her. After spritzing herself with some mint body spray, she walked down the stairs slowly and found Arnold sitting at the dining room table, having prepared black bean quesadillas filled with pepperjack cheese, chips and salsa, fresh fruit, and fresh strawberry lemonade to drink for the two of them.

"You made dinner," Helga said, smiling as she sat down. "Thank you, Arnold."

"Don't mention it, Helga," Arnold responded, grinning. "I called Curly and asked him to come pick up your clothes and shoes. I took care of the bill and he said they should be done by tomorrow afternoon." The young woman blushed, but nonetheless felt grateful for Arnold's support. As she loaded her plate with two quesadilla slices and some chips and salsa, she noticed that his face was in his hands and that he stared at her with those beautiful, half-lidded green eyes of his and the hint of a slight smile upon his lips.

"What are you staring at, Football Head?" she questioned, reaching for another slice of the delicious quesadilla.

Arnold shook his head, moving his hands from his face, placing them onto the table, and replied, "Your hair looks really nice, Helga."

"Oh," she said, grabbing a lock of her hair with her fingers and examining it. "Thanks."

She gasped upon seeing that her blonde hair now cascaded down her back in thick, luscious waves. Since the days of her childhood, it took so much time, energy, and a myriad of hair products to keep her hair under control and in its signature hairstyle. With her fluctuating hormones, styling her hair became a chore. Before joining Arnold for dinner, she didn't bother looking in the mirror, assuming that her hair was frizzed and messy, since it usually was.

"You're welcome," Arnold returned, holding out the fruit bowl to Helga. "Do you feel better?"

"I do," Helga answered, taking the bowl and placing some chopped kiwi and a few raspberries onto her plate. "A nice, long shower does wonders."

"I'm sure it does," Arnold smiled. Putting a hand onto her inflamed stomach, he inquired, "How's he doing?"

"He's fine," Helga responded dryly as her son rolled around peacefully within her. "He kept break dancing on my bladder today. It was torture!" After Arnold chuckled to himself, she said, "I wonder what it _sounds_ like."

"What?"

"The kicking," she answered in return. "I know all too well how it _feels,_ but I don't know what it _sounds_ like."

Arnold eyed her with his warm emerald eyes and then proceeded to place his head against her enlarged womb as his hands rested on the sides of it. Helga, slightly stunned at her beloved's action, placed her hands on top of his and watched as he listened determinedly to hear the baby around inside of her. He grinned widely, moved his head from her stomach, and still keeping his hands there, said, "It feels like… like a thumping sound, like someone's knocking on the door."

"_Wow,"_ Helga said, her voice awestruck. She paused, deep in thought, still keeping her hands on top of Arnold's and said, "I have an ultrasound tomorrow… would you like to come with me?"

The young man's mouth dropped open momentarily before his wide grin lit up his green eyes. "I'd be honored to go with you, Helga!" he exclaimed. "What time do you want me to pick you up? We'll take the bus together."

"My appointment's at ten," Helga responded, smiling. "Is nine-thirty okay?"

Arnold nodded and said, "I'll meet you here at that time, and then we'll ride the bus over together."

"That sounds great!" Helga grinned.

The young man next to her stood up and began cleaning off the table. "When I'm done I'll dish up some ice-cream for us, okay? Just wait here."

Helga watched as Arnold cleaned the table, admiring him from both the front and the back. When he headed into the kitchen yet again, the young woman noticed that something fell from his front pocket. Helga got up from her seat and toddled toward where the fallen object lay on the carpet. Though the young woman knew she shouldn't be looking at it, her curiosity got the best of her and she picked it up. Walking back to her seat at the dining room table, she noticed it was a photograph. Turning it over, she was alarmed to see that the picture was of a young couple, showing a handsome blonde, who was Arnold, and a stunning brunette, who could only be Ayanna, his old girlfriend, looking into each other's eyes tenderly. The picture was colored in an antique style, giving the appearance of it being a vintage photograph, and it captured the love and affection between the two of them. Arnold's hands were placed on her neck, framing her face delicately while hers were wrapped around his midsection. They faced each other, the tips of their noses touching, with Arnold leaning in to kiss Ayanna as she smiled widely. The beautiful, clear ocean and a palm tree to Arnold's left served as the background of the picture.

Helga swallowed a lump in her throat as she put the photograph into the left pocket of her sweatpants.

_He still wasn't over her._

The soon-to-be teenage mother was sure Arnold would _never_ again love her in the way he still loved his former flame.

After Arnold returned with the ice-cream, the two made small talk, with Helga pretending that she didn't care about not having his heart, despite wanting it and feeling that he wouldn't want someone who was so _careless_ with who she slept with and gave her heart to.

"Helga, are you okay?" the young man asked, concerned. He placed his hand on her shoulder and said, "You seem sad."

"I'm fine," Helga said monotonously. "I'm tired," she added, in an attempt to hide her lie. She shrugged her shoulders with exhaustion and yawned for emphasis.

Arnold continued to look at her with worry as he took the ice-cream bowls back to the kitchen. While he was rinsing the utensils and starting the dishwasher, Helga heard the sound of her father, Bob's keys twisting in the outside knothole of the front door, and then it opening and closing behind him.

"_You're home,"_ he said gruffly as he set his suitcase next to the coat rack. Eyeing her with condescension, he remarked, "That shirt's too small for you."

Helga felt her face turn red as was about to respond when Arnold returned to the dining room. Noticing that Bob was now there, standing in front of Helga as she still sat at the table, he said, "HI, Mr. Pataki. Did you have a nice day at work?"

Bob grunted and demanded, crossing his arms, _"You didn't make a mess, did you?"_

"No Sir," Arnold responded. "I can assure you that your house is clean." Peeking at his watch, he turned to Helga and told her, "I have to get going." Kneeling so he was at eye level with her, he placed a hand onto her knee and the other one onto her giant stomach and asked, "Will the two of you be okay?"

"We're fine," Helga answered. "Thank you again for everything, Arnold."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, hugging her. "Have a good night, Helga," he said as he stood up. "It was nice to see you, Sir," he told her father, holding out his hand for him to shake after turning around to face him. After shaking Bob's hand, he put on his backpack, gave the two of them a final wave, and walked out the door.

Bob eyed Helga with disdain and repeated his previous, callus remark before Arnold said his goodbyes to the two of them.

Standing up from her seat at the dining room table, Helga said coolly, "Well _Bob_, that's what happens when your stomach grows too fast for you to keep up with it. Clearly, you're incapable of comprehending the concept."

"_Hey!"_ Bob retorted in a lecturing tone of voice, "You need to start showing some gratitude to me for allowing you to still live under this roof!" Staring at her stomach and poking it somewhat roughly, he said, "You can start by naming the kid after me."

"That is _so incredibly hilarious_, Bob," the expectant teenager said with mordancy. "Like I'd want my son to know he was named after his _blowhard_ of a grandfather."

When her father's face turned red and his blue eyes blazed angrily, the young woman's eyes widened and her mouth became a thin, straight line. She knew at that moment that she'd let her mouth get the best of her and that she'd gone too far. Noticing that Arnold's photograph of him and Ayanna fell from her pocket in the exchanging of jabs with her father, she positioned herself to pick it up when Bob got to it first.

Holding the photograph up to his face, he said, his voice filled with ridicule, "I know what this is about. _You think he still loves you_!" He snorted as rude laughter emitted from his mouth while he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. He taunted, "You're _still_ not over him! You _don't_ get it! He's _moved on_, Helga. He's only being a gentleman because he doesn't know any different. Face it, do you _really think_ he wants to play 'happy family' with you and a child that isn't his?"

"_He's my friend,"_ Helga said heavily. "Arnold is a good person and he's helping me because he _wants_ to. I'm not expecting anything from him."

Bob let out a caustic laugh and said, flinging the photograph at her, "That's good. I didn't want you getting your hopes up."

Stuffing the photograph into her pocket, Helga told her father through gritted teeth, _"I'm going to bed. Good night, Bob."_

As she walked up the stairs, she heard Bob mutter, _"This_ _**never**_ _would've happened to_ _**Olga**__."_

The young woman scrunched up her face, refusing to cry, and slammed her bedroom door shut once she was in her room. Since learning of her pregnancy, Bob never ceased reminding her that she was going to become a mother before she got her driver's license, graduated from high school, had her wisdom teeth pulled, and obtained employment. He also drilled into her mind the "fact" that teenage pregnancy _never_ would've befallen her older sister.

Noticing that Arnold placed the adoption profiles on her desk, she made a face at them and walked into her closet. Turning on the light, she sat in front of her shrine of Arnold's likeness, her legs slightly spread apart, and placed the picture of Arnold and Ayanna next to the shrine, illuminating them with the candles she lit around them with haste.

She picked up her pink, hardbound journal and let the tears fall.

_**The rain engulfs all that I am**_

_**Leaving me alone to fight a war I seem to be losing on my own**_

_**As she holds you and your smile seems to brightens her, the world, and myself**_

_**It is the knowledge that what I want, I can't have**_

_**Does she really know who you are while the flood grows around me as I start losing you?**_

_**Will she hold you and never let go as I yearn for you to rescue me from my captive misery?**_

_**Are your thoughts always focused on her, and hers, on you, as I drown in the distance, wanting you to find me?**_

_**She forever captivates you as I watch the two of you from afar having nothing to hold on to**_

_**When you look at her the way you once saw me**_

_**The love, the radiance you openly displayed is now gone, when you see me, the light in your eyes reserved for another**_

_**As I wonder if what you have with her can ever measure up to the beauty of our courtship**_

_**The rains and floods drown me completely and the moment of truth comes upon my being**_

_**Making me wonder if I should just let you be**_

**II**

"Arnold Shortman's back from his travels around the world _already?_"

The blonde, young teenager looked up from where he stood at the check-in desk at the Hillwood Medical Center Maternity Clinic. He was in the process of signing Helga's name in, filling out the additional forms that accompanied the forthcoming ultrasound she was to receive that day, and choosing to foot the medical bill that came with it when he focused his gaze and found himself staring into the brown eyes of Doctor Murray Stelglitz, the family doctor from his childhood years.

The teenager chuckled softly and signing the last of the forms, said, "I was only gone for three years, Doctor. My parents and I are here in Hillwood visiting for the summer."

"Are you accompanying Miss Pataki to her ultrasound this morning?" the elderly doctor inquired in his deep, throaty voice. He turned his gaze toward the young woman, who sat on one of the couches. Her face was hidden behind an outdated, open issue of _Newsweek_ magazine, and her large, pregnant stomach, which was adorned in a close fitting, lime green shirt, rested on her upper legs and stuck out rather prominently.

"I am," Arnold responded, handing the forms to the youthful, overly perky red-haired receptionist sitting at the check-in counter.

Doctor Stelglitz nodded from where he stood and remarked, "Helga's _very lucky_ to have a friend like you."

"Thank you," Arnold replied slowly as he took a deep breath and turned to check on Helga, who was still absorbed in the magazine. "She needs someone to help her, Sir."

"That's true," the aged doctor responded, clicking his tongue back and forth. "But you're _different,_ Arnold. You're her _friend_. You _want_ to help Miss Pataki even though you're not the father of her child. You're not here out of obligation or pity, you're with her because you truly care about Helga, cherish your friendship with her, and hope everything works out for her and the child."

"Ah, Doctor Stelglitz, what brings you here to the maternity clinic?" inquired a tall, thickest, youngish doctor with deep, wavy auburn hair and amber eyes after approaching both him and Arnold from behind.

"Doctor Augustus Warner," the older man greeted hoarsely, "How good to see you! I've been paged to accompany a few prospective obstetricians from the state medical school to watch a live birth over at the hospital. Apparently, their professor contracted a nasty wave of nausea after showing the students a rather graphic documentary on birth defects… I just hope none of the students become queasy during the delivery." Eyeing the young doctor, the man added, "I take it you're an expert at stomaching such events _now?_"

Doctor Warner blushed, nodded uneasily, and said, "Now that you mention it, I'm here to take Miss Pataki to the exam room to perform her sonogram. She's my earliest patient due, and that's not for another two and a half months."

"You're not on call for today?"

"I was on call _every day_ for the past _six and a half months_," the younger man responded. Turning to Arnold, he said, "That's what happens when you spend years working in third world countries and not in the hospital environment." Laughing softly, he added, "When you first start off, you're placed on call every day until the newly licensed doctors fresh out of medical school show up… it's actually _nice_ and _relaxing_ to be here in the clinic without all the madness at the hospital." He smiled, held out his hand and said, "Forgive me for not acknowledging you earlier! You must be Miles and Stella's son! Your parents are good people. I worked with your father in the jungles of San Lorenzo before he met your mother and gave him an experience he won't _ever_ forget –_delivering_ _**babies**_ _in the_ _**jungle**_**.**"

A nervous laugh emitted from Arnold's lips as Doctor Warner continued speaking.

"I swear your father's face turned green the first time around! After hearing about how _you_ entered the world, though, I'm glad I prepared him!"

"Me too," Arnold replied, his voice somewhat tense. "I'm going to get Helga," he said to the doctors, allowing him to leave the conversation that provided him with _too much information._ The young man turned around and walked toward the young woman, her body slumped in her seat, her left elbow on the armrest, and fist resting on her cheek. Her feet were pigeon-toed, and she stared up at the ceiling, bored.

"It's time, Helga," he told her with calmness as he placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Oh," she responded, averting her gaze away from the ceiling and shaking her head.

Arnold gave her an encouraging smile and helped her up from her seat. "You okay?" he asked her as the two of them began walking toward Doctor Warner, who still stood by the check-in counter with Doctor Stelglitz, waiting to accompany the two of them to the examination room.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice lacking emotion.

The football headed teenager started at her, bewildered, knowing that all was not well with her. He wished she would tell him what was bothering her, but knew he could not force it out of her.

"Helga, how are you and your son doing today?" Doctor Warner inquired kindly as he led Arnold and Helga to a room in the back, allowing for Doctor Stelglitz to make his exit, complete with several paper bags and rolls of paper towels in tow.

The only reply was a frustrated sigh, which emitted from Helga's lips slowly.

When the three of them reached the examination room, Doctor Warner handed Helga a white hospital gown for her to change in to. He then motioned for Arnold to have a seat to the left of the examination bed, which was covered with a white paper sheet. The examination room itself was covered with a white, tiled floor and the walls were a sage green complete with cream-colored trimming. Various floral, potted plants stood in the corner of the room and along the windowsill, and a vase of white peonies hung from the hook on the ceiling. Across from Arnold was the sonogram machine, with Doctor Warner sitting across from him.

"Arnold," Doctor Warner began, "I met with your parents for lunch in Hazelnut City over the weekend and played catch-up with them. It's been _years_ since I last saw your mother and father. As you're aware, the three of us work in the field of medicine, and during our discussion, the subject of teenage pregnancy came up. Your parents told me that you've been helping Helga since returning here to Hillwood. I can't even begin to tell you how _blessed_ she is to have you supporting her."

The young man blushed and said, "It's the right thing to do. I want to help her."

"The father of her son refuses to be in the picture," the doctor commented, his voice grave. "She doesn't like talking about him. At her last appointment, before you and your parents came back, the former receptionist kept pestering her over the matter and asking her who the father was. Helga was _not_ happy about the situation and probably would've murdered the receptionist if she knew she could get away with it."

"_Former_ receptionist?" Arnold questioned, his green eyes widening, "What do you mean?"

"The receptionist was fired shortly after the incident occurred," Doctor Warner responded. "All employees here at the Hillwood Medical Center, regardless of our area of service, are under contract _not_ to ask the patients questions about their personal lives. The paternity of Helga's son is _none of my business_, and I don't bring the subject up since I know she doesn't care to discuss it. Of course, that made testing for any genetic abnormalities difficult. Because I don't make her son's paternity a topic of conversation, I don't know anything about the child's father. It was hard to rule anything out at the beginning, so I had to send her in for several rounds of testing at the hospital. Fortunately, all her tests came out negative and her son is healthy and perfectly fine."

Arnold nodded and said, looking at him, "I know who the father is."

"She must really trust you," the doctor replied. "Again, she's fortunate to have you be there for her."

The young man smiled sheepishly to himself and looked up, seeing Helga dressed in an unshapely hospital gown that was snug against her round abdomen. He stood up and helped position Helga on the examination bed. Once she lay down, he took his seat and looked intently on the screen, clasping Helga's hand in his when she reached for it.

Doctor Warner lifted the flap that covered Helga's stomach on her gown, exposing her giant, pale abdomen. He squirted some gel onto it before placing the ultrasound probe onto Helga's girth.

Arnold watched the ultrasound screen with intensity, waiting for Helga's son to appear on the monitor. However, the screen remained black, with a large grey space centering it.

"Your little boy must be hiding," Doctor Warner said as he moved the probe along Helga's midsection. "He's obviously a stubborn little guy because his heartbeat's perfectly normal!" He moved the probe again and squinted at the screen. "Ah, there we go! There's your son, Helga."

The young man's grasp on Helga's hand tightened as he stared at her son on the screen in awe.

"This is really cool, Helga," he breathed in amazement as Doctor Warner pointed out his head, arms, and legs to the two of them. He also let Arnold listen to the baby's heartbeat.

She smiled at him briefly before she turned her eyes toward the screen, her lips falling into a downward frown.

Perplexed over Helga's attitude, Arnold continued watching as Doctor Warner finished performing the ultrasound, his rapt attention on the baby. He thought about Sid and wondered what he was doing, his hold on Helga's hand tightening as he became more incensed over the fact that his childhood "friend" wasn't taking the initiative needed to provide for Helga and their child.

"_He should be here,"_ Arnold thought to himself. _"Doesn't he know all that he's missing out on in_ _**not**_ _partaking in the miracle of life?"_

"It looks like you're good to go, Miss Pataki," Doctor Warner finished, interrupting Arnold's thoughts. He lifted the probe off Helga's abdomen and wiped it down with a cloth as Arnold helped Helga sit up. "Your son's coming along nicely, and is healthy," the doctor added. "How active is he?"

"_Too active,"_ Helga grunted, folding her arms.

Doctor Warner nodded thoughtfully and opening her file, joked, "It sounds like you're going to have a future athlete. I wonder what sport he'll play."

Helga shrugged, uninterested in the doctor's comment, and stared up at the ceiling before looking at him and responding, "He'll play whatever sport he wants to play."

Looking over her paperwork, the doctor added, "Your pregnancy has been very smooth, Miss Pataki. Not many expectant teenagers are that lucky."

"_It's been smooth for_ _**him**__,"_ the young woman said dryly. _"Are you_ _**blind?**__"_ she demanded, indicating to her physical appearance and the tolls her pregnancy took on it.

"Well," Doctor Warner mused, "You're experiencing all the typical side effects of pregnancy. However, they're more intensified on you due to your young age. My advice is to keep taking your prenatal vitamins, eat healthy, and stay active. I'll see you next month, alright?"

"Sure thing, Doctor," Helga said as she let Arnold help her off the examination bed. Before leaving the room to change, she turned to him and said, "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

Arnold stared off after her, stunned. Something was not right with the young woman, and he wanted to do whatever he could to help her. However, he knew she had to _admit_ to wanting that support and that he could not _force _her to accept _any_ of the advice he knew she was in need of hearing. Putting his hand to his head, deep in thought, it occurred to him. He knew it was no longer relevant, especially since it'd been (seemingly) a while since the break-up, but he knew that wouldn't stop Helga from thinking about it.

About _her._

_What did she think of Ayanna?_

**III**

"Let's make this quick, Whitney," Helga said, facing the computer monitor screen as she adjusted the bulky web camera attached to the very top of the interface. "I made Bob mad last night and I'm lucky he hasn't skinned me alive yet."

Whitney, her long, thick raven locks framing her exceedingly browned face, tanned from the San Diegan sun, smiled at Helga just slightly and asked, "How are things going, Helga? Are you okay?"

"How do you _think_ I'm doing?" Helga grumbled as she studied her complexion in the computer monitor with disdain. "While you're in San Diego, going to the beach everyday and having a blast, it's been raining on my parade. The new guy at Slausen's doesn't make brownie sundaes the way _you_ do." After a sigh emitted from her lips, she looked at Whitney's face on the screen and admitted, "You look great."

She did. Not only was her complexion tanned, beautiful, and smooth, her black tresses loose from its usual ponytail at the nape of her neck, but Whitney had the air of being calm and relaxed, evidence that she was long overdue for a vacation after balancing work and a busy semester at the university.

Helga was grateful that no hard feelings were between them after their last meeting at Slausen's before Whitney took off to San Diego, where she told Helga many things pertaining to Arnold that the young woman once again, didn't _want_ to hear, but _needed_ to. Since then, Helga became more understanding of Arnold and his interest in reuniting with old friends in Hillwood; and though it pained her to see him dating other girls such as Rhonda, Nadine and the female, teenaged relatives of the local residents, his friendship and willingness to support her meant more than she would ever be able to repay.

However, she didn't expect him to still harbor feelings for his ex-girlfriend when he gave her the impression that he moved on long ago. In any case, the fact that he dated other girls (except her) should've been an indication of that.

"Um… Helga?"

Whitney's voice made the young woman jump. Turning to face the monitor, she asked, still taken aback, "Yes?"

"We _both_ know this conversation isn't about me. It's about _you_ and _Arnold_. How's he doing?"

"Oh Whitney," Helga lamented sadly as she placed her face in her hands, "He _still_ isn't over her."

"He's still not over Ayanna?" Whitney said. "Helga – "

"This fell out of his pocket last night," Helga interrupted, holding the photograph up to the screen for Whitney to look at.

"That is a _huge_ infringement on that young man's privacy!" Whitney admonished Helga, her dark brown eyes appearing to be lecturing the expectant teenager as well. "That was a very serious relationship he was in. If you're human, if you have _any_ semblance of a soul, getting over a courtship like that _doesn't_ come easily."

"Or, you don't get over it at all," Helga mourned, looking downward.

"Do you think Sid's over _you_ yet, Helga?" Whitney asked Helga. "Do you think he's gotten over what _you_ did to _him?_"

Helga looked up and glared at Whitney from where she sat. "Can we _please_ _**not**_ _drag_ _**him**_ into the conversation?"

"Fine," Whitney said coolly, blinking her eyes, "I won't bring it up again. However, it's something you have to think about at _some point_." She paused and said, "Are you going to ask Arnold about this?"

"_Why would I do that?"_ Helga demanded.

"You'll never get the answers you're looking for or know how Arnold feels about the situation unless you do," Whitney answered. "Although, if you do ask Arnold about his relationship with Ayanna, you'll have to own up to the fact that you took his photograph from him and got a glimpse into an aspect of his life that he probably doesn't feel comfortable discussing openly with you, or other people, for that matter. You owe him an apology in _that_ regard."

"You're right," Helga sighed. She hated having the people closest to her be the voices of reason, but she _needed_ that guidance so desperately in her life, and try as she might not to admit it, she was grateful for that support.

Turning around in her desk chair and noticing the clothes and shoes Arnold picked up from the Gammelthorpe's dry cleaning business after the ultrasound appointment, Helga couldn't help but let herself smile. She knew using all the white bleach and stain remover in the laundry room wouldn't have salvaged her clothes the way the Gammelthorpe family could, having restored her white shirt and shoes to its original brightness and making her jeans and trademark navy blue cap, which rested upon her head as good as new. In addition to footing the medical bill for the ultrasound, Arnold was good to her and her son and was always there to keep her company, oftentimes bringing a treat over for her whenever he stopped by and taking her places so she wouldn't go stir-crazy inside her house.

"Arnold is _so kind_ to me," Helga sighed, resting her hands on her inflamed abdomen, "And he's there for my son, too… Whitney, his friendship means _everything_ to me, more than it ever did."

Whitney nodded and responded, "That's why you need to be honest with him."

"Why do you _always_ have the tendency to tell me what I need to hear, but don't want to?" Helga groaned.

"You take care, Helga," Whitney said, "I'm going to sign off now."

"Thanks for everything, Whitney," Helga replied somewhat grudgingly, giving her friend a small smile.

"Good luck," her friend told her before signing off, leaving only a blank screen for Helga to stare into, wondering how her uncertain future, pertaining to Arnold, Sid, her son, every single aspect of her life, would play out.

**IV**

"So… uh… what was it that you wanted to talk to me about, Helga?" Arnold asked tentatively, sitting in her desk chair as he drilled his fingertips along the small table, surveying her bedroom, which had not changed since he last saw it.

There was one exception; a large pile of books sat on her desk, replacing the Dave Eggers books that were once there and now resided in Arnold's backpack. He'd seen the books earlier, when Helga had them with her after they ran into each other the other day, but didn't bother looking to see what was inside them. Now, he was curious to know what they were about.

"Well," Helga said her tone of voice strangely formal, turning away from the crib as she walked toward where Arnold sat, "Thank you for letting me borrow the Dave Eggers books. We liked them a lot," she finished, placing her hands onto her swollen belly. "The chocolate cake you brought over was to die for as well."

"It helps when your best friend's older brother is willing to give you impromptu cooking lessons," the young man responded, having been over at Gerald's house prior to visiting Helga. Noticing that she stared at him forlornly, the stood up from the seat at the desk, stepped closer to the young woman, and said, "Is everything okay? I know something's bothering you… if you want to, we can talk about it."

The corners of Helga's mouth turned upward just slightly as she led Arnold toward her bed, she indicated for him to sit next to her. Looking like a small child who'd just been caught opening the cookie jar red-handed, she pulled something from her right pocket and said, "You dropped this the other day when you were over. I… I should've given it back to you but I… I'm sorry," she said, holding it out to him.

Arnold took the object in Helga's hand and held it up to his face. Upon noticing that it was his favorite photograph of him and Ayanna, the one he carried around in his pocket out of habit, having been taken during the early days of his courtship, his mouth fell open as he stared at it.

"I'm sorry," Helga repeated, her voice agitated. "If… if you're mad at me, I understand."

"Actually Helga," Arnold began, scratching his head, still looking at the photograph, "This is something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

"It has?" Helga returned, her blue eyes widening in shock.

Arnold nodded. "I had the feeling that was what's been bothering you lately. Is that why you acted different around me yesterday at the ultrasound?"

The young woman nodded awkwardly and inquired, "Are you still mad at me over taking your photograph from you?"

"I'm… _irritated,_" Arnold answered back after pausing for several moments, "But I'm not mad at you."

Helga's anxious posture relaxed at Arnold's response, and she took a deep, relieved breath upon his admittance.

The young man was annoyed with Helga for taking something that belonged to him. It upset him that she felt the need to insert herself into his dating life over the years, even when they were worlds apart from each other and that she seemed so _hurt_ as he dated and flirted with other girls even after those three years of disorderly, contentious dating. He also didn't like that she was so distraught over the fact that he was still in the process of moving on from Ayanna when she knew that the precocious brunette had been his _first serious girlfriend_ after her and that they _had _shared something beautiful at some point.

Could it be that was he irritated for other reasons as well?

Did his frustration stem from seeing Helga in his dreams? Did it come from finding her to be positively gorgeous in spite of her physical and emotion tribulations? Was it because there was a part of him that _did_ want her in spite of the fact that she procreated with another person?

He shook his head and said bluntly, "Helga, you have to understand. It's going to be a _long time_ before I'm going to be _completely_ over Ayanna. We _did_ love each other, and there's a part of me… a small part, but a part, nonetheless, that _still_ does. The break-up was really hard, but we're still friends and we keep in touch. I write to her like I wrote to you."

Helga scowled and turned away from him, tucking her knees up against her chest and allowing her folded arms to rest upon them.

"Helga," he said darkly, touching her wavy blonde hair, which hung loosely down her backside, "I would appreciate it if you wouldn't get mad at me for dating other girls when you slept with Sid."

The young woman's shoulders slumped and she released her knees from their grasp, allowing herself to fall flat onto the bed.

She started crying.

"I… I'm sorry, Arnold," she sobbed as tears coursed down her ashen cheeks, "I… I didn't think about how much this hurt _you_. It never occurred to me what… what sleeping with Sid would do to _you._ I've only been thinking about myself."

"It's okay Helga," he soothed her gently as he stroked her blonde hair, splayed out across her bed. "I just need some time, but I'm going to be here for you… _always_."

Wanting to change the subject and lessen the tension in the room, he looked up and noticed the large stack of books on her desk. After encouraging her to read more of Dave Eggers' works, he wondered if Helga could introduce him to one of her favorite authors, and decided to make the book pile a topic of conversation.

"What are those books on your desk, Helga?" he asked, not knowing that by asking that question, he could possibly be setting off a whole new chain of events.

**V**

"Th – those books?" Helga asked, sitting up abruptly. She squinted her watery blue eyes toward the adoption profiles on her desk and lied, "They're _nothing!_ Doctor Bliss made me take them home but I'm going to look at them!"

"No one can make you do anything, Helga," Arnold said quietly. "You could've declined Doctor Bliss' request, but instead, you took those books home on your own accord."

Helga growled, got up from her place on the bed, and tossed the adoption profiles onto her bed. "_Fine,_" she snapped, "_Sometimes_, in the back of my mind, I think about adoption, but I don't plan on going through with it."

"Why not?" the young man inquired. "I think you should _at least_ look through them before you rule out the option entirely."

"And _what?_" Helga spat, "Give up my _only_ chance of being loved? I already feel connected to my son, Arnold. I'm _not_ breaking that connection! I'm _not _giving that up!"

Arnold, however, only responded by staring at Helga with his green eyes and placing his hands onto her stomach, where her son rolled around calmly.

"Helga… maybe his future lies with others."

He looked at her again.

"Like _yours_ does."

The young woman let her mouth fall ajar as her eyes wandered toward the top right drawer of her desk, where the _only_ trophy she ever won lay inside.

She was ten years old again, sitting on the same bed, holding the small, second place trophy in her hand.

"Wow, Helga," a younger, more naïve Arnold said, grinning up at her. "Second place in the Math Tournament is _really_ impressive, especially since you went against a few sixth graders!"

"It's not good enough," Helga said quietly, her voice bitter. "I don't think Bob and Miriam even _cared_ when I came home with this trophy in my hands. It's clearly not enough for it to go in the trophy room next to all of _Olga's_ awards and prizes."

"Well, _I'm_ proud of you," Arnold reassured her, placing his hand onto her shoulder. "You're going to be great, Helga."

She smiled.

Five years later, Helga wasn't sure if she agreed with Arnold's proclamation pertaining to her greatness or not. As she looked around her modest bedroom and thought of what she _wanted_ her son to have versus what she was _capable_ of giving him, and of _all he could do,_ the young woman sighed and resigned herself to picking up an adoption profile.

"Okay," she decided, "I'll look, but it doesn't mean I'm going to find anything. I still have a chance of being loved unconditionally! Will you keep that in mind, Arnoldo?"

"Whatever you say, Helga," Arnold chuckled, smiling at her.

"One has to be pretty much _**the best**_ when it comes to raising the son of Helga G. Pataki!"

Outside, the rain began falling.

_**I give you my all**_

_**Because I need your heart to see me through**_

_**Yet that doesn't stop the rain**_

_**From consuming everything I am**_

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the song "Blame It On The Rain" performed by the band He Is We. I also do not own the lyrics. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	9. Here's Looking At You, Kid

**Chapter IX: Here's Looking At You, Kid**

_I'll wait and wonder when our next time will be  
At the end of my trip we'll embrace and stare at the star filled night  
Would it be all right if we didn't say goodbye this time?_

_You know it's hard to tell you this  
Oh it's hard to tell you this  
Here's looking at you, Kid_

~Corey Crowder and The Gaslight Anthem, "Here's Looking At You, Kid"~

* * *

**I**

It'd been one week since Irene's young, confused patient by the name of Helga Pataki took home the adoption profiles to look through. The young woman claimed that she wasn't receiving any answers concerning adoption despite _hours_ of looking through each of the portfolios in great detail. Though Irene knew Helga was a sincere young woman who would never deliberately lie to her, she wondered if the pregnant teenager was really _looking_ at the many prospective adoptive families in front of her as opposed to merely _glancing_ at them like she unintentionally implied she was doing. The knowing psychologist knew Helga was in a tough position and at a crossroads concerning the future of her unborn son. Though Irene possessed the knowledge that she couldn't make Helga's decisions for her or push her in a particular direction, she hoped the young woman would reach the realization that true, unconditional love didn't mean just receiving it from others, but that it also meant surrendering what she wanted more than life itself for the benefit of the other person.

Turning around to face the conflicted young woman from her seat in her favorite beige chair, Irene inquired, "Helga, are you really giving this search the _chance_ and the time it deserves to have, or are you just giving me the impression that you are?"

"I'm _searching_, but I'm not finding any answers!" Helga defended herself severely from where she stood beside the window, allowing the sun to illuminate her face. "All those so-called _families _come across as being _fake_."

"How so, Helga?"

"They're not sincere," Helga responded as she folded her arms and gave Irene a pointed look. "_They're __not really happy._ Their smiles are painted on and they have this… _this mentality_ that they have to have a child to be happy."

"Many of these couples are searching for a child because they feel their families aren't complete yet," Irene remarked. "I do see where you're coming from, though. There are several couples that are childless and still find joy in their lives."

"Right!" Helga exclaimed. "I understand that there are those who feel that there's _someone_ missing in their family, but _if_ I were to pursue adoption for my son, I'd want to give him to a couple who proved that they still found happiness despite having empty spaces in their lives." She paused, deep in concentrated thought and said, "So many of the couples I looked at put their lives on hold simply because they don't have a child to complete their family. I don't like that."

She shuffled away from the window slowly and sat down on the purple couch from Irene and added, "Then, I've read through the adoptive profiles of those families in the big cities with six figure salaries who can't seem to talk about _**anything else**_ _but their lucrative lifestyles_. Why would they want _my son?_" she queried, indicating to her swelled abdomen, "They would just tote him around as some sort of an accessory! _I don't want my son growing up like that!_ Chances are…" she let her voice trail off and looked down at the floor guiltily.

The kind psychologist knew where the conversation was heading, but didn't say anything.

"_Oh… Oh God!"_ Helga cried out, her voice trembling, as she continued staring downward. When she looked up to stare at Irene, her face was red and tears flowed down her face. "I – I can't believe I'm actually _doing that_ to my child!"

Irene got up from her seat and enveloped Helga in a hug, letting the young woman cry into her shoulder before handing her a few tissues from the coffee table, which Helga accepted without hesitation.

"It's ironic, isn't it?" Irene asked quietly as Helga dabbed at her eyes with the tissues prior to blowing her nose with them.

Helga nodded sadly and lamented, "His _parents_ should be involved and actually _be_ _there_ for him. Bob and Miriam… weren't there for me, and if I… if I were to 'raise' him, then the cycle would just repeat itself."

"Helga," Irene said, placing her arm around the teenager's shoulders as a sign of comfort, "You've brought up several insightful points to consider in your decision."

"I – I have?" the pregnant teenager gulped, holding the tissues to her chest, her sapphire eyes staring at Irene in both shock and wonder. "Like what?"

"Just now, you've revealed to me the kind of people you would place your child with if you chose to pursue adoption," the psychologist said, giving the young woman a reassuring squeeze. "The ideal parents for your son would be genuine down-to-earth, and would still find joy in the midst of their trials. They would be happy, optimistic, and fully invested in your son and his life." Irene pursed her lips and looked upward before turning to the teenager next to her. "The next time you look at the adoption portfolios, have a list ready. I encourage you to record a list of the environment you'd want your son to grow up in, and a list of the kind of people who could give him that. Take time to think of who you would want to give your child to and why. You'll find what you're looking for much easier if you already have an aim in mind. Look through the profiles again and give it another week, Helga. You may just find what you're looking for. If not, you can return the profiles and continue on in your original plan of keeping or son, or I can ask for more profiles to be sent in for you."

The young woman wiped her eyes with her wrists, the tissues clasped tightly in her right hand, and sighed shakily, knowing that there was no going back.

Turning to Irene, she hugged her tightly and whispered the words, _"Thank you."_

At that moment, for the very first time since learning of Helga's pregnancy, Irene finally felt that everything was going to be okay.

**II**

Upon returning home from her appointment with Doctor Bliss, the young woman called Arnold and invited him over, informing him that she wanted his help in compiling her list. The football headed teenager agreed to join her, and shortly after the two exchanged their brief goodbyes, a large bowl of buttered, salty popcorn sat in between Helga and Arnold as the two friends assembled on the young woman's bed, sitting cross-legged across from each other. Helga placed the pile of adoption profiles in front of her while Arnold held a notepad and a fine, ballpoint pen in his hands, ready to write the words Helga would soon dictate to him.

"Helga," the young man countered evenly, "Should I really be the one making this list with you? Shouldn't Sid be doing this with you instead?"

Helga snorted as she stuffed a fist full of popcorn into her mouth. When she finished chewing the salted, fattening confection, the young woman rolled her eyes and said, "Sid _doesn't care, _Football Head!" She looked down and blushed furiously before adding, "Not like _**you**_ do, anyway."

When the young woman looked up, she noticed that Arnold's face was red as he smiled embarrassedly at her.

"Thanks, Helga," he returned, laughing with quietness. "I appreciate that."

Holding the notepad up to his face, he said, "So far, you have listed here that the perfect parents for your son would always be there for him and involved in the details of his life. They would be real, and always look on the bright side, loving life in spite of its tribulations. They would be hopeful and always see the best in others." Putting the notepad down, Arnold stared at Helga with his striking green eyes and said, "These are great qualities you have listed, but what else do you want? What kind of home do you want your son to grow up in?"

Without hesitation, the young woman responded, "I want my son to have an intellectual upbringing. I'd place my son with an educated, intelligent couple who are passionate about literature and enjoy reading good books. They would introduce my son to all the great writers at an early age – Louisa May Alcott, Jane Austen, Charlotte Brontë, Agatha Christie, Alex Haley, Harper Lee, Jack London, Gabriel García Márquez, Alan Paton, Mary Shelley, John Steinbeck, William Faulkner…" she let her voice trail off before giving Arnold an abashed smile before saying, "They'd introduce him to Dave Eggers too, Football Head, _and_ they would read to him before bed every night."

Arnold nodded as he wrote on the notepad furiously, keeping his gaze focused on what he was writing.

"Continue," he encouraged her as he continued jotting down what she dictated to him earlier.

"The mother, of course, would be smart, but still be feminine," Helga said resolutely as she withdrew her hand away from the popcorn bowl. The young woman wished she could let her guard down and actually _embrace_ her womanhood like she did when she dated Arnold. Instead, she was often crass, cynical, and tomboyish. Though Helga would never admit it aloud to herself or anyone else, she often looked at Olga's love of cosmetics, fashion, perfumes, and her effortless ability to be ladylike with envy. She wished she could do the same and longed for the ability to be classy as opposed to aggressive, loud, and oftentimes temperamental.

"Helga… you're having a _boy,_" Arnold commented, shocked. "Is that really – "

"It's important to _me,_" Helga replied, cutting him off. "She has to show him how to _respect_ girls and women and _treat them right_."

A heavy silence fell between the two of them with only the sound of Arnold's pen scratching onto the surface of the paper filling the air between them. When he finished writing, he looked up and stared at Helga intently, waiting for her to resume listing the qualities she wanted in the ideal adoptive couple capable of raising her son the way she couldn't.

"They have to be hardworking," Helga recommenced speaking, "But at the same time, they should have an air of spontaneity to them. they should let loose on occasion and not afraid to be themselves. They should be expressive."

"These are all amazing points you've made, Helga," Arnold told the expectant teenager as held out the notepad for her to look at. "The qualities you're searching for in these prospective couples really shows the love you have for your child and that you won't just settle when it comes to giving him the very best."

Helga took the notepad with wobbling hands and swallowed the lump in her throat as she looked over the list Arnold complied for her.

"I – I forgot to say… the most… _most_ _**important**_ thing," she cried, letting the tears fall down her face and onto the trademark pink shirt that covered her large belly.

"What's that, Helga?" Arnold asked soothingly, placing a hand onto her shoulder as a sign of comfort.

"They… they have to love him… for… _for_ _**exactly**_ _who he is_," she finished, letting a mangled sob escape from her lips.

"Of course, Helga," the young man reassured her as he enveloped his friend in a hug and allowed her to cry into his chest, "Of course."

**III**

Only a few days after Helga compiled her list, she found herself sitting at her desk, her face in her hands as she used her neck to cradle her old, pink rotary telephone through which she was speaking to Arnold.

"I don't understand," she moaned despairingly as she looked at all the open adoption portfolios scattered all across her desk. "None of the potential couples have what I'm looking for, Arnold. _They're all too good to be true!_"

"In what ways?" the perceptive young man on the other line inquired, his deep voice soothing her anxiety and filling her chest with nervous butterflies, "Nobody's perfect, Helga."

The young woman sighed and responded with dejection, "I'm _really looking_ through these profiles and _searching_ for the right people, but they advertise their lives as being these… these complete fairytales and storybook romances! These couples aren't grounded in reality, Arnoldo. They portray their lives as being picture-perfect with the exception of a child to complete their 'happy ever after!'"

"Are you sure you've looked _everywhere?_" Arnold asked knowingly.

"I'm sure, Arnoldo," Helga snapped as she heaved herself up from her seat at the desk and waddled toward her bed clumsily. Finding herself facing the ground, a perplexed expression formed upon her face when she noticed something peeking out from underneath her bed. She placed her left hand onto her bed for support and lowered her body to the ground slowly, grateful, for the first time in her life, that the cord on her phone was longer than the average yardstick. She kept the phone in the crook of her neck as she picked up the mysterious object – a red, leather-bound book, and held it up to her face.

"Helga?" Arnold said, his voice appearing to deepen on the other line, "Are you okay?"

"_Wait,"_ she told Arnold as she stood up gradually and slid her pregnant body onto her bed, bringing her legs together and curling them to her side. She opened the book and gasped when her azure eyes fell upon the first page. It was the large, black and white portrait of the young, smiling couple she saw at Doctor Bliss' office a week and a half ago. The picture stood mounted against heavy, beige-colored paper with the names "Kevin and Christine" written underneath it in fancy, silver calligraphy.

"_Kevin and Christine."_

The words fell from her mouth in an awed reverence as her fingertips lightly brushed the photograph with care.

"Is everything all right, Helga?" Arnold said, his voice concerned.

"Yes," Helga whispered in an evanescent rush. "I… one of the adoption profiles fell under my bed, Arnold."

"You know you can't give up the search entirely until you've seen _all_ the options," Arnold told her. "After all, Henry David Thoreau once said that it's not what you _look_ at that matters, it's what you _see._"

"I know," Helga answered, her voice calm. She flipped through the weighty pages of the adoption profile, skimming through the information typed onto the pages with care. "Their wedding song was 'Summer Wind' by Frank Sinatra."

"Even if you don't choose them, you can't deny that they have good taste in music," Arnold said with the hint of a smile in his voice. "They just might be what you're looking for, Helga."

"You and your Jazz music, Football Head," Helga countered as a soft chuckle emitted from her lips. She came back to the title page and found her eyes resting upon the black and white photograph of them yet again, the complete wonder that a single photograph could produce in the young woman overcoming her once more. "I'll come back to them," she decided, keeping the profile open in front of her. "Good night, Arnold."

"Best of luck to you, Kid," Arnold said, his voice filled with endearment before he hung up the phone.

"_I love you, Arnold,"_ Helga breathed as continued holding the phone up to her ear, the dial tone vibrating so steadily throughout her entire being that it nearly sent her into a stupor.

The young woman put the phone down at last and turned her attention toward the adoption profile in front of her, unsure of what she would find.

**IV**

Sid once again found himself inside Slausen's, with a booth to himself and a plate of his favorite cheese fries sitting before him. He sipped his chocolate chip milkshake with content and smiled as he set the confectionary delight back onto the table before him. In contrast to his previous visit to the historic ice-cream parlor, where he sported a pallid complexion, a horrible case of the jitters, and a culpability eating at his conscience, his skin was tanned and his cheeks were rosy. His dark brown eyes were no longer tired, and his overall demeanor was an improvement from the last time he dined at the historic ice-cream parlor. Though the guilt of what he did continued eating at the young man, Sid handled it much better since receiving some much-needed rest and relaxation in Northern California.

It also helped that the restaurant was entirely full and bustling about with people and that the attention wasn't completely focused on him like it was the last time he dined at Slausen's. He watched comfortably from his booth as the customers of the restaurant intermingled with each other seamlessly while the jukebox next to the counter played the song "My Generation" by The Who, leading to a table of washed-up hippies taking a break from the road to get up and start dancing to the rock song. Everyone's attention turned toward the dancers, leaving Sid in an undistracted solitude, which was exactly what he wanted.

"A man returns," said a meaningful voice filled with experience and hidden wisdom, distracting Sid from watching the crazy diners before him. The teenager, who found his life at a complete crossroads, turned from the scene before him and found himself facing an elderly man sitting across from him. The man wore an eclectic, black and white pinstripe suit, a yellow rose boutonnière hanging from his right lapel, a beige knickerbonker hat covering his thick, white hair, and a rather impressive handlebar moustache decorating his face in an unconventional splendor.

The young man tilted his head to the right, staring at the person across from him quizzically.

"Who are you?" he inquired with curiosity, "And why are you sitting at my table?"

"_I_ own this celebrated ice-cream parlor," the older man informed the teenager, indicating to the happenings of the restaurant all around him. "It's been in my family since the parlor's humble beginnings. I'm Antoine Slausen, the _owner_," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Sid Gifaldi," the confused teenager responded, shaking the man's weathered hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir."

The elder man chuckled and said, "You don't know _me,_ Mr. Gifaldi, but I certainly know _you._ I've seen many people come into this restaurant over the years – locals, crazy hippies, and people making a rest stop, grabbing a bite to eat on their way to something greater… I've seen so many people come through here, but I've forgotten many of their names, faces, and the sounds of their voices. However, I'm certain that I'll never forget seeing you and your friends come through here over the years and how much you all have changed."

"_It hasn't been_ _**that**_ _long!"_ Sid retorted as he picked up several cheese fries and put them in his mouth. "How far back are you going?"

"A lot can happen in a short period of time," the man reasoned, eyeing Sid. "As you grow older, the years go by faster, and before you know it, you're old like me and wondering where your life went!"

The young man's mouth dropped to the floor in mortification as Mr. Slausen chuckled to himself before clearing his throat. Resuming the deliberate, serious expression that was once on his face, he said, "I never thought I'd live to see the day where our city would one day be in jeopardy and nearly destroyed for the sake of a futuristic mall to be built in its place. I never though I'd see Miles and Stella Shortman come home alive, nor did I ever think I would witness Harold Berman finally pass the fourth grade. I didn't think I would ever see Helga Pataki enter my ice-cream parlor _pregnant_ before she finished her freshman year of high school."

Sid nearly spit out his chocolate chip milkshake upon hearing Mr. Slausen's words. He swallowed the remainder of his ice-cream drink with haste and coughed uncontrollably before adding, "I… I bet that was a real shock, Sir."

"It's sad," Mr. Slausen remarked as he stroked his moustache while he looked at Sid with his brown eyes, "It's downright shameful that the person who helped her get there isn't supporting her."

The teenager nodded furiously, hoping Mr. Slausen wouldn't see through him. He succeeded in eating more cheese fries as a way to keep himself busy and assuage the silence that hung in the air through his own snacking.

"Well, you certainly look a lot better than from when I last saw you," the kind owner of the ice-cream parlor said, apparently wanting to continue the conversation as he changed the subject. "Were you on vacation?"

Sid swallowed, not knowing what to make of what Mr. Slausen told him and said, "I was in Monterey, California for two weeks."

His parents, along with his aunt and uncle, were baffled over his decision to put his holiday to an abrupt end, but didn't press him or question his decision. His Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora told him that they would come visit him in Hillwood toward the end of the summer to make up for the two weeks Sid would miss due to his early return home. Though there were times when the young man wondered why he cut his trip short when he could be on the beach playing his guitar as opposed to wandering around the hometown he knew all too well, in the end, he knew what the answer was.

He always had, despite keeping himself from acting on it.

"There are a lot of big changes happening in your life right now, aren't there?" Mr. Slausen asked Sid, his voice nonchalant and his body language, casual.

Sid stared at Mr. Slausen, his dark brown eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

"_This guy is_ _**way**_ _too smart!"_ he thought to himself as he shoveled more cheese fries into his mouth clumsily. _"How much does he_ _**know,**_ _anyway?"_

After gulping down the cheese fries and sipping his milkshake to ensure they went down easier, he looked down and hesitated before giving his answer.

"_Yes,"_ he admitted with reluctance, "There's _a lot_ happening in my life right now."

"You're scared," the elderly man said knowingly, a hint of understanding present in his voice, "Change is _always_ scary, especially when you don't know what's to come… but it's not _all_ bad. Change can be good too, Mr. Gifaldi. Progress in our society, and in our own lives, _never_ would've been made without it."

"That's true," Sid admitted. "But things are so uncertain in my life and I'm nervous about the future."

"That's natural," Mr. Slausen assured Sid. "While it's perfectly normal to be afraid, you're forgetting that these things have their own way of working out."

"_Always?"_ Sid said, rolling his eyes, "You're saying that _everything_ _**always**_ works out?"

"It often doesn't happen the way you planned or how you wanted it to, but it does," the thoughtful man responded, "Everything that's in our lives come about in the way they're supposed to." He looked at Sid and asked, "Have you been hurt in the past, Sid? Has someone wronged you, by any chance?"

The young man nodded and said hoarsely, "It's so hard."

Mr. Slausen put his hand to his chin, his face deep in thought and said, "When people forsake us, it often seems impossible to move on. However, you'll never be able to press forward and take the change that's facing you head on if you let the hurt hold you back. You'll never be able to overcome change if you're resentful."

He got up from his seat across from Sid and told him, "Don't let them hold you back, Kid."

As Sid watched Mr. Slausen leave the parlor, he looked down and noticed the checkbook in front of him.

When the young man saw that Mr. Slausen took care of the price of his meal and left a good tip, he left another one anyway and left the restaurant, allowing for the impact of a wise man's words to sink in. He marveled over what he should do with the profound advice he was given, despite knowing anyway.

**V**

As Arnold got ready for bed early that night, his body tired from playing and coaching soccer, being in charge of the craft table, and having to break up an argument between two of the day camp participants over the last sugar cookie, the young man found that he was exhausted. Though Arnold loved his job working at the Camp Du Football in Arouet County, there were days when the children proved to be real handfuls, and today was no exception.

He yawned widely, stretching his limbs, and crawled under the covers, eager to turn off the light and go to sleep. However, just as he was about to shut his eyes, his cell phone rang loudly, causing the young man to groan inwardly and pick up the phone to see who was calling him. It was Gerald, his best friend.

"Hello, Gerald," Arnold addressed his friend monotonously, turning around to check the time on the clock on the shelf above his bed. It was ten-thirty in the evening.

"Hey Arnold, did I wake you up?" Gerald inquired, his voice deep and raspy. "I never understood your habit of going to bed early. The night is young, Man!"

"I'm fine," Arnold yawned, "Today was just a busy day at work. What's up, Gerald?"

"There's going to be a huge party at the Community Center this weekend," Gerald informed him. "It's going to be the biggest party of the summer!"

"_Really?"_ Arnold exhaled, feeling his green eyes drooping as they longed to fall into a dreamless sleep.

"_Yeah,"_ Gerald responded. "Iggy's been trying to get a huge group together and wants you to come along. Plus, there are a lot of people you haven't seen yet who want to know how you're doing."

"Like who?"

"A certain _Ruth P. McDougal_," his friend replied with a hint of naughtiness. "Her smile is _really something_ since she got her braces off!"

"Gerald!" Arnold reprimanded his best friend, "First of all, _you have a girlfriend!_ Second, you know that I'm _not interested_ in Ruth anymore!"

"Since we're on the subject of _girls,_" Gerald added deviously, with a hint of playfulness in his voice, "How are you and Ayanna doing? Are the two of you still talking on the phone and sending each other postcards?"

"_We're_ _**not**_ _having this conversation,"_ Arnold spat at his friend through gritted teeth.

"Fine," Gerald said casually, and at that moment, Arnold knew his best friend was rolling his eyes on the other line. "Will you come to the party?"

Astounded at how _rapidly_ Gerald could change the subject, the young man replied, albeit with sarcasm, "I'll go to the party only if Iggy doesn't expect me to come to it dressed in a pair of his bunny pajamas."

"Nah, I'm sure he's over it by now," Gerald remarked. "Have a good night, Arnold."

"Later, Gerald," Arnold said before hanging up.

He closed his cell phone and placed it on one of the many shelves to his right, his emerald eyes falling on the most recent postcard Ayanna sent him. It arrived in the mail this morning from Peru and was a picture of Machu Pichu at dusk. The young man smiled just slightly when he picked up the postcard, turned it over, and read the message Ayanna wrote to him.

_Dear Arnold,_

_The view from Machu Pichu is_ _**beautiful!**_ _Sometimes, I wish you were here with me, but once my mom and I finish vacationing here in Peru, we're headed back to Laos, where my father still works at the Embassy there. I hope you enjoy seeing all your old friends in Hillwood and that you'll find yourself soon._

_Love forever,_

_~Ayanna_

The young man placed the postcard back onto its original position on the shelf and turned off the light above him, finally allowing himself to lie down and rest.

Instead of going to sleep, however, he stayed up and wondered if the main reason why Helga had been upset over him being with Ayanna wasn't merely because he'd been with her, but because the pregnant young woman knew that she loved him too.

**VI**

Since finding Kevin and Christine's adoption profile three days ago, Helga found herself spending hours pouring over their pictures, written histories, and their basic medical documents, which were essentially perfect. She often picked up another adoption portfolio to look at, only to find herself longing to see their faces again.

As she sat downstairs in the trophy room with the movie _Casablanca_ playing, just barely audible enough for Helga to hear it, she opened Kevin and Christine's adoption profile yet again and began from the start.

Helga fell in love with the black and white portrait on the title page the moment she began studying it in more detail. Kevin and Christine were a striking couple in the springtime of their lives and fit perfectly together. Christine possessed a smile that lit up her own face, eyes, and anyone who laid eyes upon it. In examining the photograph, Helga found her to be a very outgoing person with a happy disposition. Kevin's smile in the same photograph was soft, but genuine. The light in his eyes contained a much quieter, more subdued gladness in contrast to Christine's. However, as the young woman viewed the photograph with her searching blue eyes, she gained the knowledge that the moment that particular photograph was taken, he was on cloud nine having Christine by his side, and wouldn't have wanted anyone else next to him.

She turned the page and came across several photographs of them in their element. One showed Christine's arms around her husband as he held up a large trout he caught at the lake. Another one showed the two of them sitting arm in arm on a bench at the Mission Santa Cruz. Pictures of them on the beach, at Sea World, at the lake, camping in the mountains, riding horses, and working with children and youth, showed the two of them laughing and enjoying themselves. A few of the photographs showed the two of them with their families, and the love that was present there. She noticed that Kevin grew up in a more rural, mountain environment while Christine grew up by the beach. One photograph in particular that really touched Helga showed the two of them with three of Christine's cousins. Two of them sat on their laps, and another sat to her right. Kevin's face glowed joyously, but Helga loved the way Christine looked at her husband, like he was the only person in the room, signifying that she only had eyes for him. The two of them were good with both children _and_ teenagers. Helga liked that.

After studying the four pages of pictures in great detail, Helga turned the page and began rereading their story for what was possibly the millionth time.

_Hello. Our names are Kevin and Christine, and we're grateful that you've considered us as prospective adoptive parents for your future son or daughter. We hope you've enjoyed getting to know us thus far and would like to tell you our story and why we've chosen to adopt._

The expectant teenager smiled, impressed by their directness, sincerity, and willingness to tell her about themselves. The other couples she looked at had done the same, but not in the manner that Kevin and Christine did.

_Kevin and I met during our senior year attending the University of Washington in Seattle. Our eyes first connected at a bonfire, though Kevin is often quick to tell me that I dated his roommate and best college friend first._

Helga chuckled and continued reading, already liking Christine's sense of humor.

_I was studying both Linguistics and Literature while Kevin majored in Pediatrics. Though our majors were utterly different from each other and on separate spectrums, we both found that we possessed the same sense of humor, and some common ground in our interests, such as cooking, going for long walks along the beach, jogging, and reading good books. A week after the bonfire, Kevin called and asked me out on a date. He kept me out late despite knowing that I was taking the GRE (the examination needed to be accepted into graduate school) I'd spent all summer studying for first thing in the morning. Fortunately, I passed, and we soon found that we couldn't stand to be apart from each other!_

The perspective then changed from Christine, to that of her husband's.

_We dated during our entire senior year of university and I found myself slowly, but surely, falling in love with Christine. Her laughter is so infectious and bubbly, and she has a way of brightening those around her. As our senior year came to a close, we didn't know what we were going to do. We were both headed to Pennsylvania to continue our schooling, with Christine beginning work on her Master's in Literacy at Millersville University, while I continued my studies in Pediatric Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania in Pittsburgh. However, the commute was four hours long and we would both have extremely busy schedules._

_We visited each other once a month, spoke on the phone three days a week, and sent frequent e-mails. She spent two Thanksgivings with my family in rural Idaho, and I spent Christmases with her family in sunny southern California._

Helga nodded as she finished reading, impressed with how the two of them handled themselves in a long distance relationship. Though they still loved each other, the two of them let the other person have their space, and they never smothered each other. The expectant young woman thought that was smart. She also liked that they were educated.

_After two years of graduate work, Christine received her Master's Degree in Literacy and began working as a Reading Specialist for a school district about an hour away from where I attended medical school._

_During those years, the idea of working abroad and bringing my expertise to those in foreign lands became appealing to me. During the summers I attended medical school, I completed various internships all over the world for organizations such as Doctors Without Borders, the Red Cross, and the World Health Organization. My internships took me to places such as Mexico, Russia, Tanzania, Venezuela, and other third world countries._

_Christine was good to me and we maintained a strong correspondence during my internships even when they tested our commitment to each other. During my internship in Tanzania, we came close to ending our relationship after enduring several rough patches, but by some miracle, found ourselves prevailing in the midst of the tough times that befell our relationship._

In addition to admiring Kevin and Christine for giving the other person their space, the expectant teenager liked how they admitted that their relationship was not perfect. They were human. These people had their own struggles, had their own relationship tested, and even came close to breaking up at one point, only for love to triumph and save them.

Christine resumed the narration.

_On the day of Kevin's graduation from medical school, he proposed to me and I accepted. We were married that summer on a beautiful Saturday in August, surrounded by our family and close friends. The day Kevin became my husband was the best one I ever had the privilege to live through. Our wedding song was "Summer Wind" by Frank Sinatra, and it really does describe our relationship perfectly. Everything about that day was truly magical._

Though those last lines sounded sappy to Helga's ears when she read them for the first time, she secretly loved Christine's profound honesty in expressing them. She turned the page and found herself mesmerized all over again by a montage of Kevin and Christine's engagement and wedding pictures. The two of them went together so perfectly, even with their contrasting features. Christine's dark olive skin and chestnut hair complemented by light green eyes somehow matched Kevin's fair skin tone, light brown hair, and distinct blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. She loved the photographs of Kevin kissing Christine on the cheek as her face glowed with an unspeakable joy, the two of them arm in arm staring into each other's eyes, Christine's confident stance as she held her bouquet with her other hand on her hip, and Kevin's easygoing grin and he watched his bride with adoration. Christine was everything the young woman wanted to be: classy, self-assured, intelligent, and yet still willing to embrace her femininity and sophistication. Helga loved the silhouetted portrait of them against a beautiful blue sky, and found herself laughing once again at the picture of them driving a mini golf cart in the wedding attire, along with the pictures of them striking up a golf match, with Christine keeping her bridal bouquet in the golf club carrier, the white flowers even enhancing it. Another photograph of the two of them showed Kevin running throughout a meadow with Christine's wedding bouquet in hand, his new wife holding up her dress and chasing after him cheerfully. The notable action itself was utterly impromptu, and Helga loved it.

Before long, Helga found that she'd spent nearly half the film absorbing the photographs before her eyes, and turned the page, where Christine continued the narration.

_Although Kevin longed to make his dream of practicing pediatric medicine all over the world a reality, he needed to finish his medical school residency first. We decided to settle down in southern California, which is where my parents also live. As Kevin completed his residency, I worked as a Literacy Resource Specialist, helping both young children and undereducated adults become well read and provide them with the sufficient schooling needed._

_When the two of us began to seriously discuss marriage during the later years of our courtship, we knew we wanted to be parents. Our future family was_ _**always**_ _a topic of conversation, from the names __we liked, to the family traditions we'd incorporate, what extra-curricular activities we'd enroll any of our children in, and how we would parent. As Kevin finished the final year of his residency, bringing with him the security of a job he'd been offered as a pediatrician at a prominent doctor's office in the big city, we found it to be the perfect opportunity to begin starting our family._

Helga looked down at the words on the page, her heart reaching out to Kevin and Christine, knowing what was to come. She turned the thick, heavy page, where Kevin resumed his perspective.

_After nearly a year of trying without any results, Christine and I turned to fertility treatments to aid us in our goal of starting our family. However, a year and a half and several rounds of treatments later, we were still childless. We consulted with many doctors, and Christine went in for numerous tests, only for us to learn that having children was not a gift we could give to each other._

_In spite of our devastation, heartbreak, and the obstacles that infertility brought to our marriage, we still found outlets for happiness; one way was through service. Every summer since then, Christine and I have volunteered with UNICEF, bringing our areas of work expertise to those who live in third-world countries. While Christine teaches both adults and children how to read and provides them with many resources through which they can receive an education, I work with children and practice medicine, giving them check-ups and performing any necessary inoculations needed for them to live._

Helga turned yet another page and found her eyes resting on a map of the world, with various countries in Africa, Asia, Eurasia, the Middle East, the Polynesian Islands, and South America, marked with multi-colored dots, indicating the many places they'd been to when volunteering with UNICEF. Additionally, various cities in Australia and New Zealand were marked as well. This didn't come across as being fantastical or out of the ordinary to Helga after knowing Miles and Stella, hearing about their world travels, and knowing of the humanitarian work they performed all over the world.

The young woman scanned the various pictures of Kevin and Christine in various parts of the globe, with the people they served. Her blue eyes rested on a picture of Kevin surrounded by a group of Aborigine children, and then her eyes fell upon a picture of Christine in a classroom, teaching a small group consisting of both Pakistani girls and women of all ages. The young woman knew they were happy and that they developed a true, ultimate love for those they helped.

She continued reading. This time, both Kevin and Christine concluded their story.

_Though we have found true joy in our volunteer work, the fulfillment of a dream in taking our work worldwide, our careers, extended family, and in each other,_ _**it has become apparent to us that our own family is not yet complete.**_

_Because we cannot have children of our own, we have decided to adopt and hope you will consider us in making your decision._

_We thank you for your time and wish you all the success in whatever you choose to do._

As Helga poured over each page in the book yet again, she realized that Kevin and Christine were _truly capable_ of loving a child that didn't belong to them, or that wasn't biologically theirs. They had a sense of realness to them despite their education and backgrounds that the other couples couldn't compete with. Their want for a child was straight and truthful, unlike some of the other prospective couples Helga looked at. Kevin and Christine loved the people they worked with for exactly who they were. Though Helga oftentimes hoped that her unborn child wouldn't inherit Sid's large nose, his paranoid tendencies, or _her_ own "ability" at masking her feelings, she knew that even if he did, that Kevin and Christine would love her son anyway and support him every step of the way in whatever manner they could.

In looking at the photographs of just the two of them, Helga saw that Kevin and Christine truly admired each other and couldn't imagine their lives without the other person. They loved each other, completed each other, and would do anything for the other person. Their love for each was so true and so authentic, that all the other couples Helga looked at paled in comparison.

She wondered if she should look through the other adoption portfolios again, just to be sure, but upon looking into Kevin and Christine's eyes in their pictures, knew there was no need.

Holding the book open to the title page against her pregnant stomach with her left hand, her right one placed squarely onto her belly, she looked down, her azure eyes on both her engorged abdomen and the adoption profile in front of her, and said the most memorable line from the classic movie right along with Rick Blaine:

"_Here's looking at you, Kid."_

Then, he kicked.

At that moment in time, it was clear. Helga knew without _a shadow of a doubt_ that these people, Kevin and Christine, were her son's parents.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the lyrics to the songs "Here's Looking At You, Kid". The two songs referenced in the chapter's epitaph have the same titled but are performed separately. The first song used is performed by Corey Crowder and the second is sung by The Gaslight Anthem. I also do not own either of these songs. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	10. Merrily We Fall Out Of Line

**Chapter X: Merrily We Fall Out Of Line**

_Merrily we fall out of line, out of line_  
_I'd fall anywhere with you_  
_I'm by your side_  
_Swinging in the rain_  
_Humming melodies_  
_We're not going anywhere until we freeze_ _  
_  
_Forever is a long time_  
_But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side_

_Carefully we'll place for our destiny_  
_You came and you took this heart_  
_And set it free_  
_Every word you write and sing is so warm to me_  
_So warm to me_  
_I'm torn, I'm torn_  
_To be right where you are_  
_  
Forever is a long time_  
_But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side_  
_Tell me everyday_  
_I get to wake up to that smile_  
_I wouldn't mind it at all_

~He Is We, "I Wouldn't Mind"~

* * *

**I**

"This is who I've chosen!" Helga said excitedly to Arnold as she opened the large, red leather-bound book in front of her and handed it to him. The two of them sat at the kitchen table in the Sunset Arms boarding house, enjoying a vast plate of chocolate chip cookies his mom made in front of them. For the most part, the boarding house was quiet, save for Arnold's pet pig, Abner, and a few of the other pets who mingled about the various parts of the historic home. His parents and grandparents were out to lunch for the afternoon, Mr. Hyunh was still working at El Patio, and Ernie was vacationing in the same beach city where Arnold and Helga spent their spring break as elementary school students those years ago. To the young man's amazement, he couldn't hear Oskar and Suzie caught up in one of their petty arguments like he often did whilst in the boarding house. Ever since the paternity of Helga's child had been revealed to him, he often wondered if she and Sid would've _become _Oskar and Suzie at a later date, had his old classmate decided to be involved, and had Helga _not_ chosen to pursue adoption.

Grateful that Helga found a couple she found suitable for her son, Arnold continued listening as Helga added, the happiness in her voice apparent and overtaking her entire demeanor, "Their names are Kevin and Christine. They're _everything_ I want in an adoptive couple, and _so_ much more!"

The fifteen-year-old football headed teenager smiled to himself as he listened to Helga gush about the couple she chose to be her son's parents. His vibrant green eyes scanned the myriad of pictures showing Kevin and Christine performing activities together and with their families, along with photographs of the two of them in wedding attire and even in casual wear, showcasing their love. Arnold read their history with great interest, admiring the couple for their humanity, intellect, loyalty to each other, the true, uncompromising love and devotion they had for the other person, and their work ethic. He found Kevin and Christine extremely likable. Though he never looked at the other adoption profiles Helga took home with her, he knew there was no need to do so. He felt that Kevin and Christine surpassed all the other couples Helga considered.

Closing the large adoptive profile after he finished reading it, he turned his face toward Helga, who stared at him tentatively, her elbows on the table with her chin in her hands.

"What do you think of them?" she inquired, her voice anxious. She looked at him nervously, eager to hear what his opinion was on the couple she elected to give her unborn child to.

Arnold slid Kevin and Christine's adoption profile back to Helga and replied, "I like them… I really do."

"Do you honestly think that?" Helga asked, her voice growing quiet as she stared downward, her sapphire eyes falling onto her large stomach.

"I do," he assured her as he placed a comforting hand onto her shoulder. "I'm really proud of you, Helga. You're giving your child to a couple who really wants him, will love him, and are capable of taking care of him. It takes _a lot_ of strength and so much _love_ to do that."

The expectant teenager gave Arnold a shy smile and said, "After I'm done visiting you, I'll be on my way to an appointment with Doctor Bliss… I'm going to tell her my decision."

Arnold gave his friend a nod and remarked, "This is an _amazing_ thing you're doing, Helga."

"I… I just hope Kevin and Christine will want to meet me," Helga said, her voice fearful and trembling. "What if they don't want to?" she asked Arnold as her bottom lip quivered and her vulnerable blue eyes shed tears. She put a hand to her face to hide them, as well as her mangled cries.

"Helga," Arnold comforted her, "You _know_ Kevin and Christine _aren't_ those kind of people. If they were, you wouldn't even _think twice_ about placing your son with them, would you?"

"N – no," Helga sniffed, unmasking her face. "I – I… wouldn't."

"You're giving them the _greatest gift_ they'll ever receive and they're going to love you for it! There isn't a reason why they _wouldn't_ want to meet you!"

The young woman exhaled shakily and said, "You're right, Arnold. This is just going to be _so hard,_ but it's the right thing to do. It's about what's best for _him._ That's what it always came down to…" she wiped her eyes and finished, "I was too selfish to realize it until now."

She pointed her eyes upward and looked at the cuckoo clock above the stove in the eclectically decorated kitchen. "I… I have to get going," she mumbled while standing up from her seat at the kitchen table clumsily, holding Kevin and Christine's adoption profile close to her chest.

Arnold grinned when he saw the book bag he'd given Helga at her feet. The courteous young man stood up from his place and picked up the bag. Based on its heaviness, he deduced that the weight of it was from the other adoption portfolios Helga looked at, and would be returning to Doctor Bliss at her upcoming appointment.

When he finished walking Helga out of the boarding house, he handed her the woven book bag he'd given her earlier in the summer and told her, "Everything's going to work out, Helga. Just remember what you're doing and _why_ you're doing it. You're going to bless so many lives through this decision you've made to place your son with Kevin and Christine. All will be well, Helga. Have faith!"

To the young man's surprise, Helga threw her arms around him and refused to let go even after the bus arrived and opened its door for her. It was only after the bus driver honked at the pregnant teenager several times that she released herself from Arnold's grasp and hopped onto the bus.

"Goodbye Arnold," she said to him as the bus door closed right in front of her.

As the bus became only a small speck in the distance before him, Arnold raised his hand to the air and whispered, "Goodbye Helga," as though he would never see her again.

He would never lay his jade orbs upon _that_ Helga Pataki again, for when the young woman returned, she would be a changed person. Once she told her psychologist of her plans to pursue adoption, keeping her son would be out of the question. Helga always knew it was, but she'd been in denial about it until now, when she came to the realization that there were moments in life when the hardest thing and the right thing were exactly the same.

Upon stepping back into the Sunset Arms, the young man instantly heard Oskar and Suzie's argumentative voices yelling at each other above him. Once again, they argued about the state of their finances and increasing debt. The young man sighed, shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose in aggravation. It was obvious in his years abroad that Oskar hadn't learned anything, _still_ allowing his wife to be the breadwinner in their miserable marriage of convenience. He felt bad for Suzie and was saddened by the fact that she let her husband hold her back, but at the same time, he couldn't help but wonder what led her to marry her lazy, self-serving husband in the first place. His patience waning upon hearing them yell, he walked up the stairs and knocked on their door.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU – "

The angry woman's look softened as her bitter grey eyes rested upon the young teenager.

"Oh… hi Arnold," Suzie said, her face flushing furiously. "I'm sorry I screamed at you. Would you like for Oskar and I to keep things down?"

Arnold looked at the woman across from him and saw how much she aged, both physically and emotionally, while he was gone. She'd put on weight, and her delicate facial features, which were once prominent and defined, were now significantly fleshier, her cheekbones, which once stood out and characterized her eye-catching face, were hidden beneath the excessive, softer tissue that surrounded her facial palette. Lines were present around her mouth and the corners of her eyes. Furthermore, her entire being was filled with an unspeakable sadness.

The young man took a deep breath and responded, "I would appreciate it if you did."

"We're sorry, Arnold," Suzie said, her voice hushed and subdued.

"Sorry about what?" the inquisitive voice of her self-absorbed, "maltreated" husband queried.

"Oh, Oskar, you're _impossible!_" Suzie sneered at him, shutting the door in Arnold's face as she turned around to face her spouse.

The teenager who often saw the good in people against his better judgment could only stare at the slammed door before him. After seeing Suzie ruined by the gradual destruction of a marriage that was never meant to last and the constant delays of her own betterment, he _knew_ that Helga, the keen, ferocious, and spirited young woman who never let people mess with her, would've turned into Suzie, a former shadow of herself, let down by the world and hurt beyond repair had she decided to raise her child. Whether she did so by herself, or with Sid by her side, the outcome would've been the same. Though Arnold was well aware that Helga was strong and possessed the great capacity needed to work hard, support her child, and finish her education, the young man knew it would've eventually taken a toll on his friend, leaving her cynical and a complete shadow of her former self. Despite knowing it was wrong, there was a small part of him that was grateful Sid wasn't involved, because he knew the insecure, obsessive teenager wouldn't have done anything but hold Helga back and continue to resent her. Although Sid needed to take responsibility for his actions and step up to the plate, he needed to do so of his own accord and not out of any sense of obligation, because if he did the latter, then his child would grow up with the blatant knowledge that his father didn't care and was only present because he _had_ to be.

The environment alone would've been beyond poisonous to the little boy who still grew within the confines of Helga's womb and had yet to make his entrance into the world.

Seeing Suzie's despair and Oskar's indolence further reaffirmed in Arnold the truth that Helga was indeed doing the right thing by placing her son with a couple who actually _loved_ each other and could provide for him.

Following the large sigh that emitted from his mouth, Arnold came down the stairs, finding his parents and grandparents entering the boarding house through the large green door. His father carried Styrofoam boxes that contained their leftover lunch.

"Hey Shortman," his grandfather greeted, "You look like you've been hit over the head by an omnipresent boyhood problem of yours!"

As Arnold only stared at his grandfather blankly, with his lovable, but peculiar grandmother about to add more to the conversation, his father intervened and said, "We'll take care of it, Dad." He smiled at his son and cocked his head to the left, indicating for Arnold to join him and his mother in the kitchen.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Arnold followed his parents into the kitchen and took at seat at the table, laughing quietly to himself as he listened to his grandfather sing "Oh, You Beautiful Doll" while his grandmother cheered and clapped for him. His mother hugged him from behind and kissed his football shaped head before she sat down next to him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. She smiled at him, scooting her chair closer to her husband's once he finished putting the leftovers into the refrigerator.

"Is everything okay, Arnold?" his father asked, his own green eyes concerned for the well being of his son.

The young man exhaled slowly and said, "Helga's placing her baby for adoption. She showed me the couple she's going to give her child to."

"What are they like?" his mother inquired curiously. "What are their names? What do they do for a living?"

"Their names are Kevin and Christine," Arnold answered. "He's a pediatrician, and she's a literary specialist. They live in southern California, by the beach, and they volunteer with UNICEF during the summers. From what Helga's told me, they sound like good people, and I really like them."

His father nodded and said, "I was really worried about Helga for a while, especially when you told me that she had no idea what she was going to do, but was still intent on keeping her child. Adoption here is so different from the process overseas and in the countries we've visited… in most developing nations, putting your child up for adoption means putting him or her in an orphanage. The children in that situation who _aren't_ fortunate enough to be adopted into a family are destined for a lifetime of poverty and maybe even jail."

"She's giving her baby to a couple who really wants him and will give him a great life," Arnold repeated. "I just… before you came home, Oskar and Suzie were fighting… _again._"

"Oh dear," his mother lamented. "Their situation has always been a dreary one, and it only seems to get worse."

His father shook his head sadly and commented, "Dad and Mom always told me that their marriage was rocky from the very beginning."

"When I went upstairs and asked them to keep it down a bit, Suzie looked… she didn't look good. Oskar's… _destroyed_ her!" the young man blurted out, his voice cracking. "As I looked at her, I couldn't help but think that would've been _Helga,_ had she chosen to keep her child. That would've been _her _whether or not Sid took initiative…" the worried teenager's voice trailed off as he put his head in his hands. He breathed in and out slowly as his mother rubbed his back with care.

After the young man looked up, he added, "I know it's horrible of me to think that way since Sid _should_ be accountable for his actions and helping Helga and their child, but it has to be _his _choice! He has to want that for himself… just seeing Suzie reiterated to me how right Helga's decision is. I know I'm wrong to assume that Helga would turn into Suzie if she chose to keep her child, since there _have_ been single, teenage parents who've beat the odds… but at what _cost?_"

His caring parents only stared at him with the emerald eyes that mirrored his own, at a loss of words.

Following a long silence, his father said, his voice hushed and quiet, "We really don't know what to say, Arnold. We know what you've witnessed between Oskar and Suzie… and what Helga's going through is a lot to take in. We know that seeing Helga, who's still very much… a _**child**_ herself in a grown-up position and making decisions that _no_ fifteen-year-old should have to make isn't easy for you. Even so, you're there for her in spite of everything and helping her out. We're… we're so _proud_ of you, Son."

Swallowing the large lump in his throat, Arnold looked at his parents and said his voice thick with both gratitude and emotion, _"Thanks."_

He got up from his place at the kitchen table and hugged both his parents from behind.

"_I love you guys_ _**so much**__,"_ he told them, refusing to let go.

"We love you too," his kind mother promised him, standing up from her own seat to hug her son. "We always will, no matter what."

"Arnold," his father said, placing his hand onto his son's shoulder and giving him a soft smile, "We couldn't ask for a better son."

"I couldn't ask for better parents."

**II**

"I won't be needing these anymore," Helga told Doctor Bliss resolutely as she stood at her psychologist's desk, emptying her book bag of all the other adoption portfolios, happy to finally be rid of them. Having them out of her book bag was equivalent to having a heavy load taken off her shoulders, and she hoped the feeling would only grow upon telling Doctor Bliss her decision.

Doctor Bliss put down her cup of lemon tea and picked up each of the adoption profiles, opening the books and eyeing each of the pages, her deep eyes seemingly surprised at the young woman's proclamation.

"You looked at all of these?" the compassionate woman inquired as she placed them into a pile. "Did you find anything?"

Helga took a deep breath and nodded.

"I did," she answered back, turning around to pick up Kevin and Christine's adoption profile, which she placed on the coffee table behind her prior to returning the other portfolios. She looked down and the leather-bound book containing her son's destiny and opened it to the title page. Helga looked into Kevin and Christine's eyes and studied the black and white photograph she'd come to know so well, aware that she could not back away from her decision. Holding the opened book close to her heart, she turned around and faced her psychologist, taking several steps toward her desk.

"These people are my son's parents," Helga informed Doctor Bliss as she put their adoption profile onto the desk in front of her. "This is what I'm doing, and I'm _not_ running away from it. I _can't,_ and I _won't_ do it."

The expectant teenager watched her psychologist uneasily, resting her hands at the base of her stomach, relying on her son's mellowed movements within her as a source of calm while she watched Doctor Bliss examine Kevin and Christine's adoption profile. The minutes seemed to tick by sluggishly as Doctor Bliss turned the pages of the adoption profile, her facial expression remaining neutral. When the perceptive psychologist closed the thick book at last, she stared at Helga and said, holding the book out to her, "I have _no doubt_ that you're making the right decision for both you and your child, Helga. Kevin and Christine truly _are_ remarkable, and it sounds like your son will have a good life with them. However, you will have to tell your parents and older sister of your decision. Since you're still a minor, Helga, I cannot call the adoption agency and have them assign you to an agent, begin processing the official adoption paperwork, or contact Kevin and Christine of your decision until your parents approve of it first."

"I know," Helga countered, taking the adoption portfolio back into her arms. "I was actually wondering if I could tell them here… like I did when I told them I was pregnant." She held the leather-bound book close and waited for Doctor Bliss to answer her.

The understanding psychologist stood up from her seat at the desk and reached out to Helga. "You know that you can always come to me if you need anything. I'd be more than honored to be there when you tell your family what you've decided to do."

The young woman looked down at the book she held close to her pregnant, inflamed body and declared, "I'm going through with this. I _don't care_ what anyone else says, because I'm _not _backing out."

**III**

Unlike Helga, Sid was never one for words. Ever since Mr. Slausen, the owner of the most renowned ice-cream parlor in all of Hillwood gave the conflicted teenager some good advice, along with some free cheese fries and a milkshake to go with it, he often found himself reflecting on what he'd been told. He stood at Mighty Pete, a wave of nostalgia overcoming him as he watched the new generation of youthful children play in the old tree house that had been there for as long as Sid could remember. He found himself reminiscing back to a simpler, less complex time, where he and his friends spent their afternoons after school and all their vacation times inside the monumental tree house. The young man remembered reading comic books, endless card games with Arnold, Gerald, Harold, and Stinky, fixing the sink and contributing to the occasional repairs on occasion, and letting the sun rest on his face as he stood on the balcony of the tree house. He remembered the night when he, Arnold, Helga, and many of his other childhood friends from yesteryear all came together one starry night to stop Helga's father from tearing down Mighty Pete and how they succeeded in their task.

He wondered. If he went back in time and told his nine-year-old self that he would one day become good friends with, and ultimately fall in love with Helga Pataki, the school bully, would he believe himself? How would his childhood self react to knowing that he would have a child with her before they even "grew up" and graduated from high school?

Sid agonized over how to approach Helga concerning the matter. He'd always known what the right thing to do was, but let his cowardice get the better of him and allow the young man to rationalize letting himself get away with what was easy. He found his time running out as the month of June was rapidly approaching its end, welcoming the fact that Helga was soon due to deliver their child. Taking off his trademark green cap and running his left hand through his substantial raven hair, which was drastically shorter from its previous style, he wondered how Helga would react to seeing him again after his intended apology and admittance that _yes,_ he _did_ want to be a good father to this child, even with Arnold Shortman being his do-gooder self and placing himself in the picture.

The remorseful teenager knew it was a believable possibility that Helga would refuse to let him be present in their child's life and reject his apologies. It wasn't difficult for Sid to envision Helga upon seeing him for the first time in months, her pregnant belly so huge it nearly had her toppling over, her single eyebrow contorted angrily, along with her icy blue eyes glowering at him in rage. He could see her screaming, putting him in his place, and telling him that he ought to be ashamed of himself for deserting his child the way that he had.

Sid knew that fact better than anybody else, but also owned the knowledge that it wasn't his place to stop Helga from giving him a piece of her mind after what he did to her. When the young man would go to Helga and apologize (after getting over his own fears and nervous anxieties, which he hoped was soon), he would let the young woman yell at him. It was only a mere fraction of the punishment he deserved.

On the other hand, it _was hard_ for Sid to picture an angry, vengeful Helga after he spent all those years getting to know her and becoming her friend before their spontaneous, sexual rendezvous changed everything, and before he learned she was pregnant with his child. He knew there was so much more to the young woman than what the first impression she gave to people could ever imply. She acted like a bully as a way of hiding her weaknesses and softness. Sid knew Helga was capable of giving love (though he hated that she didn't offer any of it to him in return) and receiving it. She read and wrote voraciously, had a perverted mind that Sid often enjoyed looking into, and she was the only person who could make him laugh. Sid remembered with every ounce of guilt how helpless Helga was the moment he abandoned her. Her pregnancy was already obvious, and he recalled how she looked at him, her cerulean eyes softened and yearning for his help. Though Sid knew facing an angry, beyond furious Helga was a possibility, he hoped that the young woman carrying his child would forgive him, knowing the guilt he held in his heart, let him be there for her and their child, and allow him the opportunity to get to know him or her.

It was irrational, but Sid didn't want Helga to hate him, but knew she probably did.

If anything, the selfish, yet regretful teenager didn't want Helga to give the child up.

He couldn't fathom how people could give their child to people they barely knew. Despite knowing it was a double standard, due to his own lack of involvement in his child's prenatal life, he _did _want to see his future son or daughter grow up. Even if Helga didn't want him around, he was fully aware that he'd still be able to witness the milestones in his baby's life, even if it were only from a mere distance. If Helga gave the child away… he would know nothing of him or her and what he or she would become, and that scared him more than anything.

Turning away from Mighty Pete, Sid soon found himself walking to Small Park and taking a seat on one of the numerous benches that dotted the various park walkways. He watched with his dark brown eyes glazed over and his chin in his hands as numerous families, most of them with young children, played together and enjoyed one another's company. Those mothers and fathers he watched, along with his _own_ parents, made it look _so easy._

He gulped when he realized that once he told Helga of his desire to be involved, that he would have to come clean to his parents and let them know that they were going to have a grandchild.

That terrified him.

The disappointment, the disgrace, and the knowledge that he would be burdening his mother and father when they still struggled financially, was too much for him to bear.

The familiar feeling returned to him – those sensations of shame, sorrow, and negativity returned to him and engulfed his being. Once again resisting the obligatory urge to vomit, he found himself lying on the park bench, his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Sid was afraid and wondering _how_ he was going to approach Helga, his family, and his friends when he had _no _idea what to tell them and found himself lacking in the capacity to say what needed to be said.

Humiliated by his own gutlessness, the young man didn't want to watch the happy families in front of him, and shielded his eyes from them, knowing that he could never have what they did.

When Sid tired of only seeing the dark, he opened his eyes, squinting them slightly, and found himself staring at Iggy Baxter, an old classmate and friend of his, who was still considered to be one of the most popular students in their class.

"Sid?" Iggy asked, holding out his hand for him to take, "Are you all right? It's not everyday that people decide to lay down on park benches for pure entertainment."

Ignoring Iggy's hand, Sid sat up himself and attempted to rub the guilt out of his eyes so his friend wouldn't suspect anything.

"I'm fine," the misguided teenager feinted as he started at Iggy, who still wore his trademark green sunglasses after all these years. Dressed in blue and white striped polo, blue jeans, wearing a pair of light brown flip-flops, his light brown hair no longer styled in a bowl cut but was shorter and styled so that it fell into his eyes with an unconventional sort of elegance, and having a naturally tanned complexion, Sid still found Iggy to be the very epitome of coolness. However, it wasn't his outward appearance that drew Sid to him, but rather, it was his down-to-earth personality, participation in the service projects put on by their school and the city itself, friendly demeanor, and willingness to include others that impressed Sid most of all.

The young man knew that he'd done so many shameful things in the past and had been caught up in something truly abhorrent for the better part of a year. He knew Iggy forgave him long ago for telling everyone that he wore bunny pajamas in the fourth grade, and as odd as it was, knowing that there was someone who forgave him for one of his past misdeeds gave him _some _semblance of hope that he _could_ be welcomed into his child's life, despite the seriousness of the inexcusable act he committed.

Iggy sat down next to him and said, "You seem sad, Sid."

"There's a lot going on in my life right now," Sid confessed as he watched a husband and wife play with their toddler son. "My mind is going in a million different directions and there's so much that I want to do… I know I can't, and shouldn't let anything hold me back, but…"

He let his voice trial off into uncertainty as he turned his head away from the blissful family before him, not wanting to look at them.

"Listen," Iggy told him as he placed his hand onto Sid's shoulder. "You look like you're under a lot of stress right now and like you need to let loose for a bit."

"I – I do?" Sid inquired. "You want me to actually… _let loose?_"

"Yeah," Iggy said. "Plus, this is the first time I've seen you all summer! There's a big party being held at the Community Center tonight. I'm gathering a big group of people and we're all going to head over there together. Would you like to come, Sid?"

The young man smiled for the first time in months and responded, "Yes. I would like that… very much."

Letting loose was the exact stress reliever he needed to put to good use before he went through with the monumental duty that stood before him.

Still smiling widely to himself as he watched Iggy stand up from the park bench and give him a wave, the young man felt that _maybe there was hope for him after all._

**IV**

Helga stood in the front entryway of the Pataki residence, her book bag holding Kevin and Christine's adoption profile slung over her shoulders. She waited patiently for Bob to turn off the television, Miriam, who for the first time in ages, was actually home before midnight to put away her Blackberry, and for Olga to stop practicing the numerous musical numbers she needed to have memorized before her debut in the gag-inducing musical _Rats_ and come downstairs.

She stepped away from the front door and walked with apprehension into the trophy room, where she turned off her father's favorite soap opera.

"What the hell was _that_ about, Helga?" Bob demanded as he threw his hands into the air.

"It's almost time to leave," Helga told him. "I don't want to be late for this appointment… and I _really want_ you, Mom, and Olga to be there with me."

"I really don't have time for an improvised meeting with your shrink, Olga," Bob said in annoyance as he turned the television on with the remote he held in his beefy hand.

"It's _Helga,_ Dad," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, _I_ for one, am excited to accompany Helga to her appointment," Olga exclaimed lightly as she sashayed down the stairs, wearing a revealing white dress accessorized with glinting diamond earrings and bracelets dangling on her dainty wrists. When she entered the trophy room, she twirled for Helga and their father, her single, golden anklet dancing, the dress of her skirt spinning, and her longer, honey colored hair, which now fell to her mid-back, swirled with grace.

Helga gave her older sister a small smile as Bob complimented her endlessly and watched as Miriam entered the room, still playing with her Blackberry. She was no longer the frazzled, burnt-out housewife known for digging the deep hole of alcoholism and allowing herself to stay there. Now, she stood in the trophy room proudly, her stance confident, wearing a white, ruffled blouse, navy blue blazer, and pencil skirt that proved she even owned an incredible figure for a woman her age. Her blonde tresses were pulled back professionally and he wore just enough make-up to enhance her already timeless features. She looked like a corporate, more mature Olga.

Putting her Blackberry into her purse at last, she said, her tone of voice bored, "I _suppose_ I'll come with you to your little session with your psychologist since Olga's coming, but _really,_ Helga! I had to cancel _two_ meetings with the company's biggest buyers for this tonight!"

"_Sorry,"_ Helga muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

She'd always been grateful for her mother's abstemiousness from alcohol, but was sad she never got to see it… not in the way she wanted, or needed to.

Bob rolled his blue eyes toward the ceiling and got up from his chair as he turned off the television with the remote control. "Let's get this over with," he grumbled.

He walked toward the coat hanger, which stood by the staircase and retrieved his favorite brown jacket. Putting it on as Helga led the way for her mother and older sister to the door, her father let out a frustrated cry upon hearing someone knocking on the door from outside.

"OH FOR THE LOVE OF – " Bob shouted in frustration as he finished putting his coat on, his screams causing his family to flinch, "The _moment_ we get ready to _leave_ is _right when someone has the nerve to –_ "

When he opened the door, his entire being appeared to soften, along with Helga's heart.

It was Arnold.

"Hi, Mr. Pataki," the young man said, "Is Helga home?"

"_Make it quick,"_ Bob said gruffly, holding the door open, _"We're just about to leave."_

The young man stepped into the entryway the same moment Helga moved forward to greet him. They found themselves facing each other, their bodies just inches away from each other's skin.

"Hello," Arnold greeted her, his voice smooth and calm, giving Helga nervous butterflies that resonated in the pit of her gigantic stomach.

"Hi," Helga said bashfully, feeling herself blush. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," the young man standing before her responded. "But I'll be even better if you agree to spend the Fourth of July holiday with me… there's the parade in the morning, the city barbecue during the afternoon, and my parents and Grandma and Grandpa are throwing a party on the roof of the boarding house in the evening. We could do it all… together, if you wanted."

The expectant teenager exhaled as she tried to contain the excitement that filled her entire being. _Arnold was asking her out on a date!_ The _only_ person she _ever truly loved_ wanted her to grace his presence during the upcoming patriotic holiday! Helga always knew that unlike most of the guys his age, the football headed teenager wasn't superficial by any means; but since falling pregnant, the young woman never thought that he'd see her the same way again after their break-up… not when he had girls like Rhonda, Nadine, and _Ayanna_ (she bared her teeth at the thought) all over him.

She _never_ expected to be recognized as being more than a friend to him… not after the twists and turns the young woman's life dealt her anyway.

Looking at Arnold with tentativeness swimming in her blue eyes, she shifted all her body weight to her right side anxiously, crossing her left leg over her right and putting her hands on her hips.

"Is this a date you're asking me out on?"

"If… you want to call it that, then yes. It is," Arnold responded as he placed his hand onto the back of his neck, his face bright red.

"Oh… okay," Helga said, feeling the corners of her mouth turn upward. "We can… we can do that."

"Okay," Arnold said, smiling. "I'll call you later," her added, wrapping his arms around Helga, giving her a hug.

As the young woman enfolded herself into Arnold's hold, embracing him in return, she closed her eyes, inhaling his delicious, musky scent and smiled.

Upon noticing her family staring at him, Arnold broke away from her, his entire face now completely flushed and smiled at her nervously.

"Bye Helga," he said, giving her a quick wave before walking out the door.

Though Arnold had noticed Helga's family staring at him, she wasn't even aware of the fact that they were now staring at her as ran outside to the top step of the front porch and watched as Arnold walked away from her.

The pregnant adolescent could care less about all the ogling and odd looks she received from her family.

Inside, she sang.

**V**

Arnold walked to the party at the Community Center with the large group Iggy assembled, which consisted of the majority of their classmates, save for Lorenzo and Rhonda, who were on vacation, and Helga, who was out with her family for the evening, though the young blonde didn't know why. He wondered if they knew of her decision to place her child with Kevin and Christine, and if not, what their reaction would be when they learned of what Helga chose to do.

His wide green eyes scanned the crowd in front of him, instantly spotting Gerald and Phoebe in coordinated outfits with their arms intertwined, Eugene tripping over a crack in the sidewalk every so often, Stinky's tall and slender frame in the distance, towering over nearly everyone, and then he saw Sid conversing with Iggy, his favorite green cap that he'd always worn backwards covered his shorter black hair and stood out in the vast sea of people he sojourned to the party with.

It'd been a while since Arnold and Sid actually spoke to each other. They talked during the time when the two of them congregated with their friends and had a guy's day out, but didn't really have much of an opportunity to discourse with each other beyond playing catch-up. Arnold, however, wanted another chance to speak with Sid, a soon-to-be accidental father at the age of fifteen. Though Helga asked him _not_ to confront the craven teenager over his abandonment of her child with him, he was continuously incensed over Sid's lack of responsibility concerning the situation and was incapable of understanding how the teenager could just _desert_ the two of them the way he had, offering _no_ contact or means of support.

He wondered if Sid ever felt guilty over what happened.

Despite his disappointment in the unconfident teenager, Arnold knew that he also suffered. No one deserved to be led along, only to be completely cut off and left behind in the manner that Helga had done to him. He didn't deserve the knowledge that Helga's thoughts were on another as the two "consummated" their relationship that November evening in the guest bedroom at Wolfgang's shady Friday night party. Helga was not entirely faultless and what she did to Sid _was_ inexcusable, but unlike Sid, she accepted the consequences of her actions and was doing all that she could to give her baby a good life.

That was where the sympathy ended.

Arnold's eyes fell upon Sid again as he watched him turn to talk with Stinky and Harold. Did he ever think about Helga and the fact that he left her alone to make adult decisions that no teenager should ever have to face by his or herself? Was he capable of understanding that yes, while he had his own struggles through the ordeal, that the current circumstances called for him to be the bigger man? Did he realize that he proved himself to be unworthy of such a calling and that what he'd done in abandoning Helga and their child together was unforgivable?

When the young man noticed that everyone around him stopped walking, he averted his eyes away from Sid and brought them toward the front entryway of the Community Center. Bright, flashing lights illuminated the outside of the building and those who stood in the front entryway and around the exterior of the building. Bright, multi-colored balloons and streamers in blue, green, orange, and yellow decorated the outside of the building, and the loud, noisy dance music from inside made its way into the ears of those who stood outside, so they all could hear it.

Gerald turned around, still holding Phoebe's hand, and grinned at Arnold.

"Get ready to have fun at the first party you've been to in years!"

"It hasn't been years, Gerald," Arnold laughed as he stepped into the Community Center after everyone else, his emerald orbs widening at what was in front of him.

The spacious room was well lit, even with a slight dimness, allowing Arnold to see all the occupants in the room with clarity. The entire ceiling was covered with colorful balloons, which all laid inside a net, implying that there would be an imminent balloon drop toward the end of the party. Most of the guests congregated to the dance floor, which was at the very center of the room, and moved their bodies to the beat of the fast-paced music playing from the speakers. The young man looked to where the music came from and saw Brainy acting as D.J., moving the records in front of him flawlessly, proving in the process that he had an impressive aptitude for the art of mixing music. Though many of the dancers swayed their hips naughtily as they held their partners close to their bodies, Arnold was relieved to see that most of the dancing was clean.

Gerald was partially right; while the blonde teenager attended his fair share of parties during his years abroad, the vast majority of them were formal, sit-down dinners that took place during the evenings and were often held in fancy hotel conference centers, embassies, or at the headquarters of global organizations. World-renowned anthropologists, doctors, researches, scientists, sociologists, and the heads of such organizations or embassies often hosted these soirees. There were also parties that took place during the afternoons as well, which were less formal but still required Arnold to dress up. These gatherings typically only had adults present, but on occasion, the children of the other adults at these parties were present as well, and like Arnold, were often bored at the adults' antics. Along with Arnold, they usually congregated to a recreation room away from the party, or outside, where they'd converse with one another, forming friendships with each other, happy to finally know that their were people their own age and from similar backgrounds in a foreign land. The young man formed numerous friendships with these people and still kept in touch with them. Sometimes, they'd pull out their iPhones and surf the Internet, using it as their means to remain informed on what was happening in the world around them.

Occasionally, they'd take out their iPods and sway to the music as they listened to it with their headphones, using the music players to hold their own, improvised dance parties. That was how Arnold and Ayanna first met each other – exchanging glances at a sit-down, five-course dinner at the grand dining hall at the embassy in Laos. After dessert, the two headed outside and swayed to the slow jazz of Miles Davis' "It Never Entered My Mind", which played from her iPod Touch.

He still couldn't listen to that song without thinking of her, even when there were moments when he found Helga entering his mind upon hearing the timeless musical tune.

Though Arnold was taken aback somewhat at the scene before him, it didn't come as being a complete shock or as being something truly remarkable, despite the fact that the parties he attended for the past three years were considered "more proper" and less lively.

Watching as Gerald and Phoebe danced together, he walked toward the refreshment table, which served an extensive assortment of desserts, consisting of chocolate brownies, maple bars, small bowls of candy, caramelitas, peanut butter bars, and every kind of cookie he could imagine. Included in the smorgasbord of food were bowls of chips and dip, pretzels, trail mix, and a large punch bowl.

Staring at Harold and Stinky stuffing their faces with a dazed expression, already feeling bored at the party, he didn't notice Ruth McDougal, or Connie and Maria, the two girls he and Gerald took to a dance in the Community Center those years ago, approach him from behind.

"You're filling out handsomely," Maria said with seduction, grabbing his shoulders and turning him around to face the three older girls. "How were your world travels, Arnold?"

"They were fine," he responded as a nervous sweat formed upon his forehead. He looked at the three girls and saw how much the imminent high school seniors changed over the years.

Ruth's dark brown locks fell to the tips of her shoulder blades, and the ends of her thick hair curled nicely. She wore a strapless, powdered blue dress that fell just above her kneecaps and pearls in her lobes. Arnold felt himself go weak at the knees when he learned that Gerald was indeed right when she flashed a straight, lustrous smile at him. Maria's hair was also longer, but was much tamer from when Arnold saw it last. The bold, Latina young woman no longer kept her hair held back, but let it fall into her dark eyes instead. Her black dress was a little shorter than Ruth's, but did an amazing job at enhancing her full, curvy figure. In contrast, Connie flaunted a sage green, flowing summer dress, but still retained her eternally striking features that became more eye-catching with age.

"You'll have to tell us about them sometime," Connie said as she ruffled Arnold's unruly hair with her manicured hands. "I've _always_ dreamed of traveling around the world!"

Feeling uncomfortable, Arnold released himself from Connie's grasp and said, after turning around and starting to back away from them, "Maybe we can do that later. I'm going to talk with Gerald now, but it was nice seeing all of you -"

Just as he was about to turn around and approach Gerald, a taller, fatter, and significantly denser Wolfgang walked in front of him, blocking his path.

"What's up, _Shortman?_" he accosted Arnold, his voice filled with menace. "I take it you had fun jet setting around the world?"

Arnold nodded and said, "It was great Wolfgang, but I have to get going now, so if you'll excuse me – "

He sidestepped away from his old grade school nemesis and began walking toward where Gerald still danced with Phoebe, only to feel someone touching his backside.

The young man turned around and saw that it was Ruth, flashing her luminescent smile at him.

"Come on, Arnold," she said silkily, "You're _clearly_ popular. Everyone missed you while you were gone."

"If you can make time for that _slut_ Helga Pataki, you can talk to us too," Connie said coolly, her breath falling onto Arnold's skin.

"Yeah, she's _really something_ to look at, isn't she?" Wolfgang questioned Arnold, his voice dry and sardonic. "You're _really_ selling yourself short, _Shortman,_ choosing to hang out with her when you can have these hot babes grace your presence on a daily basis!"

"Don't think we don't see you with her," Maria said, her voice syrupy. "You can let loose once in a while," she added, tracing Arnold's jaw line gently. "You don't have to be a gentleman _all_ the time!"

"Of course," Wolfgang said devilishly, throwing Arnold a wink, "I wouldn't put it past you to develop a thing for MILFs while you were gone! If there was ever a MILF _I_ could bang, it'd be Helga!"

Feeling the rage boiling inside of him, the young man wrestled himself from the hold of his former crush, and grateful for all the martial arts training his grandmother gave him in the fourth grade, punched Wolfgang squarely in the stomach.

When the pompous bully flew into the middle of the dance floor, his head landing against the wall, the crowd parted, and everyone turned to Arnold, whose fist was still in the air.

"_What is_ _**with**_ _all of you?"_ he demanded, as he glared at Brainy, who then turned off the music with haste. _"We all have a friend and classmate of ours who needs us, and who needs the support of those around her more than ever, and what are you all doing? You either turn the other cheek, because to_ _**you,**__"_ he focused his angry expression on Sid, who watched him with a vacancy in his dark eyes, _"__**If you don't talk about the problem, it doesn't exist.**_ _Or, you start rumors,"_ he glared at Wolfgang's large, unconscious body on the ground. _"You blatantly ridicule someone you don't even know and call her the worst possible names,"_ he said icily to the three older girls behind him before facing the crowd again.

"_When I came to this party tonight, I was hoping that all of us could just have a good time!_ _**I didn't come here to see most of you turn your back on one of your own or make fun at her expense**__, because if that's all you're doing, then I'm out of here."_

Arnold walked out of the Community Center, expecting to go out alone.

To his surprise, however, a large crowd followed him outside, with Sid leading them.

**VI**

Helga paced back and forth inside Doctor Bliss' office, ignoring the bewildered stares she received from her family, who sat in the three fold-up chairs Doctor Bliss provided. The young woman still had the book bag Arnold gave her, with Kevin and Christine's adoption profile inside strung over her shoulder's, and had no idea how to tell her family of her plans to place her baby for adoption. She was terrified of the adverse reactions that would likely face her, but knew that adoption was the only option she could pursue that would give her child the best possible chance he had of living a happy, fulfilling life.

"_Can we_ _**please**_ _get this over with?"_ her father ordered. "Why did you bring us here anyway, Helga? You know that we all have other things we could be doing!"

"I – " Helga stopped pacing the room and halted in her tracks. Feeling her nerves overtake her, she tried to formulate a response to her father, but found herself at a loss for words. She looked downward, not knowing how to respond to her father when a reassuring hand fell gently onto her shoulder. Helga looked up, and saw Doctor Bliss standing next to her. The young woman smiled at her psychologist and relief washed over her as she watched Doctor Bliss turn and face her family.

"Mr. Pataki, your daughter **NEEDS** you and the rest of your family," Doctor Bliss informed them. Both her hands were on Helga's shoulders and she gave them a reassuring squeeze before she resumed speaking. "It disappoints me to know that none of you have supported Helga the way you should've been doing. She needed you to be there for her during this pregnancy, and she also needed you throughout her life."

The young woman looked at her family and watched as Olga sat in her seat, shuffling her feet uneasily and wringing her hands. Her father looked as detached and unnerved as ever, his cold blue eyes staring at the clock above the door. She felt her body relax just slightly when her eyes locked with her mother's, and she saw that Miriam's entire being had softened.

"You haven't offered Helga any aid or guidance during this time," her psychologist continued, "Helga has grown up _far too fast_ and had to make some very important choices _on her own _because of your neglect and refusal to help her."

Bob stared at Doctor Bliss and spat, "_I didn't come here to be lectured by you!_ In fact, I don't even _know_ what the _hell_ I'm doing here."

Pulling away from Doctor Bliss, Helga took several steps toward her family, so she could look at them closely while she spoke. Still wearing her book bag around her pregnant body, she looked at her parents and sister and said bluntly, "Your _attitude_ and your _indifference_ is part of the reason why I made the decision I did."

Turning her head downwards, she opened her book bag and got out the adoption portfolio, holding it close to her chest as she closed the book bag it came in with care.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the profile to the title page and handed the book to Miriam, who hesitated before taking it. Bob and Olga scooted their chairs in closer so they could get a better look. Her older sister let out a gasp, her cerulean eyes gazing up at Helga in shock, and Bob's face began turning scarlet.

"I'm placing my son for adoption," Helga announced. "I've found the ideal couple and I'm going through with it."

Bob turned his face away from the profile, as though he couldn't bear to look at it anymore. He glared at Helga, his face damask with fury, his blue eyes flashing. As if he were moving in slow motion, he stood up from his chair, approached Helga, and began screaming at her.

"WHAT ARE YOU **THINKING,** HELGA?" he shouted, spraying spit everywhere, "HOW CAN YOU BE SO UNGRATEFUL?"

"_Mr. Pataki."_

Father and daughter turned around to see Helga's psychologist glaring at Bob, her arms folded, and her facial expression beyond enraged at the older man.

Bob's facial expression and angry stance alleviated, and when he inquired after Helga again, he kept his voice even, but still filled with coldness.

"Do you have _any_ idea how _**selfish**_ you're acting, giving your child to _**complete strangers**_ when we've already done _**so much**_ for you?"

"Like _what,_ Bob?" Helga questioned. "You were the one who wanted to kick me out when I refused to kill my son and who refers to him as a bastard at least once a day. You don't do anything but belittle me. What have you done for my child, or for me, that I should be grateful for?"

"I – I… I can't believe you're doing this, Baby Sister!" Olga wailed as she began crying. "You're… you're giving away your… your baby after we've already given him his… little clothes and set up his crib!" The hysterics continued as her mascara began running down her cheeks, staining her face black.

"Oh for crying out loud, Olga!" Bob snapped, rolling his eyes as he put a hand to his forehead in exasperation.

Helga was not amused by what was in front of her. Retrieving a handkerchief from her pocket, she walked toward Olga and handed it to her. Olga thanked her sister, took the handkerchief, and began rubbing her eyes with it and wiping off the mascara residue her tears left behind.

"Why are you doing this, Baby Sister?" she asked, her watery cobalt eyes resting on Helga.

Realizing that her book bag was still on, the young woman took it off and placed it on the purple couch across from her family. She looked at Doctor Bliss, who nodded.

"I've realized that I'm not in the position to be a good parent right now," Helga told her family. "My child deserves to grow up with all the necessities and luxuries of life that I'm not capable of giving him. I'm only fifteen years old. I can't give my son what he needs, but Kevin and Christine can give him what I can't."

"Like _what?_" Bob demanded, still standing in the same position where Helga left him. "We're providing him with _everything!_ He'll have food, a roof over his head, a nanny who'll take care of him so you can still have a _life,_ he'll have Miriam and I as grandparents, we're both very successful at our jobs! We'll be able to provide for him, and for you, fiscally!"

"_Miriam was only good at doing anything after she dried out,"_ Helga thought with bitterness, her arms folded.

"Not to mention, he'll also grow up with a _famous_ aunt who'll indulge him on occasion," Bob concluded. Throwing his hands into the air, he nearly erupted, "I can't believe you'd trust this…_Kevin and Christine,_ these people _you don't even know_ to raise your son over his own flesh and blood!"

"_You don't get it!"_ Helga cried out, using her arms for emphasis. _"I_ _**REFUSE**_ _to let you ruin my son's life and take away his chance for happiness!_ _**I DON'T WANT HIM ANYWHERE NEAR YOU! **__You_ _**FAILED**_ _in raising me!"_

The expectant teenager took several slow, deepened breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She stared into her father's blue eyes, which continued to burn with rage. His mouth hung just slightly ajar, and the man looked affronted. It seemed as though Bob Pataki had never been so insulted before in his life until his very own daughter called him out on his bad parenting and how he failed her, as well as his own grandchild.

"Besides," she added, "Being able to provide for someone's material needs doesn't automatically make you a good parent. It requires giving _so much more,_ and that's something Kevin and Christine are capable of doing. He'll have _**both a mother and a father**_ who will love him and make sure he has all the best opportunities in life. They'll be able to help him reach his potential. My son will grow up in a _**stable**_ household! I can't give him that… but _they _can."

She watched as her father stood in front of her, his face seething as he took deep, angry breaths. The young woman exhaled slowly, not knowing what else to say, only to find herself grateful when Doctor Bliss took her side again and came to her rescue.

"Like earlier, when Helga decided to go through with her pregnancy, this was only a decision _she_ could make," Doctor Bliss said. "This is _her_ child, not _yours._ Don't be surprised that she didn't include you in her decision, not only because it ultimately rested with her, but because of your apathy."

Miriam, who finished reading through the adoption profile, closed it with a loud certainty and looked up at Helga, her lips trembling. She stood up from where she sat and approached her daughter, holding out the portfolio for her to take back.

"I'm sorry, Helga," she said, her voice remorseful as the young woman took the hardbound book back. "I haven't been a real mother to you, and that is my deepest, most painful regret."

Helga looked at her mother, and could see the wrinkles under her eyes, hidden masterfully by concealer, her deep blue orbs swimming with regret, and the slightly curled tendrils of blonde hair, some mixed with the distinct silver that came loose from her bun.

Miriam Pataki was finally realizing the price of her success.

"Thanks," Helga said.

Smoothing her hair back, Miriam added, "I like Kevin and Christine, Helga… and I believe you're making the right choice." She looked at her youngest child, her head tilted sideways, and asked, "Can we meet them?"

The edges of Helga's mouth curved upward, and she laughed, smile at her mother for the first time in a long while.

"Of course you can!" she said, her voice filled with a mirth that was rarely, if ever found whenever the young woman spoke. Walking toward her mother and father, she touched Olga's shoulder and told her family, "I _want_ you to be there when I meet them! Olga, Dad… will you meet Kevin and Christine?"

Olga nodded and said quietly, "Of course, Baby Sister."

"This better not be something you end up regretting," Bob said brusquely. "You know perfectly well that adoption is final, Helga. Once you hand your baby over to Kevin and Christine, there's no turning back."

"I won't regret this," Helga assured him. "This is the right thing to do." Turning to Doctor Bliss, she asked, "Does this mean we can get the adoption paperwork started?"

Her psychologist nodded. "I'll call the adoption agency today and begin the process… is that all right with you, Mr. and Mrs. Pataki?"

Miriam nodded while her husband shrugged and grunted, "If it's what she wants."

"Is that a yes?"

Helga replied by approaching Doctor Bliss, giving her a hug, and saying the universal words of gratitude.

"_Thank you."_

**VII**

Arnold watched Sid lead the crowd out of the Community Center in shock, still not believing that people followed him out, appearing to take his call to action for supporting Helga instead of shunning her, seriously.

The dark haired young man approached him and said, his voice low, "You're right, Arnold. It's time people stopped looking down on Helga… or completely avoid talking about what's at hand."

Instead of agreeing, Arnold could only stare at Sid incredulously.

It was such a double standard, how Sid was so deliberate in his abandonment of Helga and the child he made with her, but at the same time, could lead an entire crowd outside of a party when he realized that someone else, who had nothing to do with the conception of his son, was supporting them. He was nothing but a follower, who did what the rest of the herd told him to do, but was only taking the initiative needed when he realized that someone else was braver than him. He was only willing to help the mother of his child when he realized that someone did it before him.

Sid Gifaldi was nothing but a hypocrite.

Arnold turned to Sid, his entire body pulsating with rage, and snarled, "Oh _please,_ Sid. If you _really_ cared about Helga the way you told me you do, if you _really_ wanted people to stop making fun of her, and stop avoiding the fact that _she needs their help_… you would've stepped up the _moment_ you learned she was pregnant."

The teenager across from Arnold stared at him panic. He turned around and saw that everyone stared at him and Arnold, their faces in utter alarm.

"I – I…" Sid chattered, his voice trailing off. "I… I can explain!"

Arnold looked at Sid vehemently, too angry to realize that he'd just outed Sid as the father of Helga's baby.

He shook his head and carried on.

"_Explain what?"_ he demanded. "Explain what you've been doing for nearly eight months while the mother of your child struggled to get by? Explain why you didn't say or do anything when the gossip started and when nearly everyone around Helga made life miserable for her?"

Sid looked down, ashamed.

"You didn't say anything, _but you knew_," Arnold growled. "Helga was _so_ scared, and **SHE** _**NEEDED**_ **YOU.** She needed the **FATHER** to step up and support her! If you were **HALF** the man you claim to be, you would've been there for Helga from the beginning instead of walking out on her."

He exhaled and looked at the crowd around him before staring at Sid, who looked downward, visibly shaking.

"_This party blows!"_ someone in the crowd shouted. _"I say we go to the one at the YMAA Gym!"_

Agreements abounded in the air as the crowd cleared and left the outside boundaries of the Community Center. Arnold watched as the left, noticing as Ruth, Connie, and Marie still stared at him, while Gerald and Phoebe stopped, and asked if they should wait for him. The young man shook his head and turned his attention to Sid. The young man wondered if he should go talk to him, but turned around and walked out with the rest of the crowd instead.

For the first time, he felt like an adherent.

**VIII**

At the Pataki residence that evening, Bob watched from the kitchen as his wife and two daughters sat on the large couch in the trophy room. His youngest child sat in the middle, cross-legged, her widening abdomen sitting in her lap as she held a large leather-bound book open in front of her. Her mother and older sister sat on both sides of her, staring down at the pages in awe, even though the much older woman had already read through the entire book earlier in the day.

"Mom, you've already read this," Helga said. "Do you really want me to read it out loud?"

"I've always enjoyed _good_ love stories," Miriam told her youngest daughter as Bob felt pangs of heartache, remorse, skepticism, and the feeling of being excluded waltz through his heart when he realized that his wife and daughters deserved so much better than him. "Don't you ever wonder where you got your passion for them from?"

Bob felt as though he'd been stung. His wife deserved a fairy tale and true love story to match her passion for them, but all he'd done was play the villain and keep her away from the greatness she'd always been destined for.

"Then afterwards," Olga said, holding a large, plastic Tupperware container of peanut M&M's, "We're going to help you decide what to wear on your Fourth of July date with Arnold!"

"Okay, okay!" Helga laughed, as her body curled up into a ball while her mother and older sister tickled her, "Do you want to hear the story or not?"

Olga and Miriam nodded once they stopped playing with Helga, turned their attention toward the book, and listened as she began reading in a smooth, resonating voice.

"_Kevin and I met during our senior year attending the University of Washington in Seattle…"_

Bob turned away from the scene before him, filled with bonding, laughter, smiles, and the fact that happiness was being repaired right in front him, and that he was not apart of it.

He walked up the stairs and went to bed early that night. Lying in his bed, feeling left out, lonely, and knowing that he failed his family, including the grandson, his _first grandchild_ who had yet to be born, he turned off the light and waited for sleep to greet him, but it never did.

**IX**

When he finally dared to look up, Sid bared his teeth and contorted his dark chocolate eyes into a look of fury, only to find that he stood alone outside the Community Center, the lone guest left at an abandoned party.

_Who the_ _**hell**_ _did Arnold Shortman think he was, anyway?_ How _dare_ Arnold out him like that, in front of all those people? Who was _he_ to lecture everyone about Helga's imperfect life, especially when she was no angel, and _not_ the only victim in what had happened?

Most importantly, Arnold had a lot of nerve to not only reveal Sid's participation in Helga's pregnancy, but to also reprimand everyone else about it, and tell him that he was such a bad person when at long last, the young man had mustered the courage to step forward and was ready to come clean.

After the party, Sid had every intention of going to Helga's house and apologizing to her for his misdeeds. He was willing to leave the past behind, move forward, and do whatever he could to support his child. He only needed to be rid of his anxiety and stress, have the opportunity to loosen up and become calm before he did, and then he was going to do what he could to make everything right.

Until Arnold put all his flaws and misdeeds on display for all to see.

Until he realized that Helga really did see their friendship and what they shared that night as a complete joke. It meant absolutely nothing to her. Since Arnold knew Sid was the father, it only meant that Helga told him _their_ story.

It wasn't just Helga's story, but Arnold acted like it was. Helga was at fault too, and the young man knew it, yet acted like Sid was the only culprit.

Sid longed to do whatever he could to turn things around.

Until now.

The lights dimmed as the angry young man left the Community Center that night, beyond furious, gnashing his teeth in rage, and knowing what he was going to do the next time he laid his eyes on both Helga _and_ Arnold.

This meant war.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "I Wouldn't Mind" performed by He Is We or the lyrics. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	11. Separate's Always Better

**Chapter XI: Separate's Always Better**

_You think you've got it, oh you think you've got it_  
_But got it just don't get it, until there's nothing at all_  
_We get together, oh we get together_  
_But separate's always better when there's feelings involved_

_If what they say is, nothing is forever_  
_Then what makes_ _love the exception?_  
_Why are we so in denial when you know we're not happy here?_

~Obadiah Parker, "Hey Ya"~

* * *

**I**

An ironic fog rested over the city of Hillwood as Arnold Shortman woke up early the morning of Independence Day. Squinting his tired jade orbs toward the sky roof above him as he continued lying in bed, he wondered how the weather could turn so cloudy and seemingly dreary after several days of sun. The young man hoped the clouds and fog would clear and that the weather would be nice for the holiday, even when July fog was never considered unusual in this environment.

Though Arnold was tired after yesterday's exhausting work schedule, he couldn't get back to sleep. He turned his lean body toward the shelf behind and above his head and disconnected the potato alarm clock bearing his likeness. It was only seven-thirteen in the morning, and Arnold still had over three and a half hours before meeting Helga at City Hall, whereupon the two of them would watch the parade together before heading to the barbecue at Tina Park.

Thinking of Helga instantly reminded him of Sid and of the fact that he'd called him out on his lack of responsibility at the Community Center the week before. Since then, Arnold kept a relatively low profile when he was around Helga, or other people, for that matter, and didn't say much about the party. He was surprised that Sid hadn't said or done anything after what happened. The young man knew that what he did was wrong – not just in outing Sid in front of all those people (even though he _needed_ to be called out on his pusillanimity), but also because he broke his promise to Helga and confronted their insecure classmate when she specifically asked him not to. Though Arnold assured Helga that he wouldn't say anything to Sid concerning the matter, it was hard keeping his mouth shut when he knew that his former classmate entirely acted as though his life was normal when it wasn't; there was _nothing_ normal about two fifteen-year-olds procreating, especially when one was left to face the backlash whilst the other put on the front that nothing extraordinary had occurred.

After getting out of bed and stretching his limbs, Arnold retrieved a towel, along with what he planned to wear on his daylong date with Helga, and went downstairs to the first of the two bathrooms his grandparents had installed after he found his parents in the jungles of San Lorenzo. Grateful that he no longer had to share a single bathroom with the boarders of the Sunset Arms, the young man stepped inside the spacious restroom and elected to take a long bath as opposed to a quick shower, and take his sweet time in doing so since he had ample time before meeting Helga in time for the Fourth of July Parade.

Upon filling the large bathtub with warm water and a liberal amount of soap bubbles, the teenager stepped into the luxurious bath and let himself soak within the midst of water, soap, and his favorite Old Spice body wash.

Making himself aware of the time as he gave the occasional glance to the clock above the bathroom cabinet, Arnold bathed slowly and allowed himself to enjoy what solitary hours he had left before his grandmother woke up his parents, grandfather, and the other boarders, and enlisted them in decorating the house in Christmas decorations, complete with an enormous evergreen tree that Ernie somehow managed to find, though he remained tight lipped and refused to answer any questions when asked where he managed to acquire such a tree during the summer season. When Arnold heard his grandmother's Little River Band Christmas album playing in the parlor below him, he realized it was time to get out of the tub and begin helping everyone else with the decorations. While lamenting the fact that he had to cut his relaxed soak short, he pulled the plug and stepped out of the tub, resisting the urge to watch longingly as the warm water and bubbles made its way down the drain, opting to step out of the bathtub with haste. Drying himself off quickly before deodorizing himself with Old Spice antiperspirant and spraying himself with his treasured New York cologne, he dressed himself in a navy blue polo, khaki slacks he pressed and ironed the night before, and red Converse sneakers. He dried his hair and allowed it to stick upward like it did during his younger years, put on his ever-present little blue cap, and he was ready.

Arnold walked downward to the parlor and wasn't surprised to see the boardinghouse adorned with holly and mistletoe along the hallways, stair railings, wall edges, and baseboards. Red, green, gold, and silver streamers, and brightly colored Christmas lights in every color cascaded from the ceiling in a detailed weaving and spanned the entire parlor. Nativity scenes from various parts of the world that his parents collected over the years stood on the bookshelf and coffee table in front of the couch. While Christmas carols continued playing from the radio inside the kitchen, which his reluctant grandfather was decorating as his eccentric grandmother darted about the dining room dressed as one of the three wise men telling Ernie, Oskar, Susie, and Mr. Hyunh where to place the additional embellishments, his parents stood in the very corner of the parlor, decorating the Christmas tree with popcorn chains, candy canes, and mismatched ornaments (including the ones he made during his preschool and elementary school years) wearing amused expressions on their faces.

"Oh Arnold, it's good to see you up!" his mother exclaimed as she finished putting an ornament on the tree. After embracing him in a hug, she looked at him and asked, "Would you like to help us finish decorating the tree?"

"Sure," Arnold nodded as he grabbed one of the remaining ornaments from the box and placed it on the tree. He didn't think too much about what he was doing as he continued aiding his parents in garnishing the tree.

"You're nervous about your date with Helga, aren't you?" his father inquired as he put the bright, ruby encrusted star that'd been in the Shortman family for generations at the very top of the tree. "There," he said, as he used the stepladder to descend to the ground to stand with his wife and son, "The tree is complete."

"If you're nervous about house still being decorated in Christmas trappings when your friends come over for the party this evening, we'll have them down by then," he reassured his son, placing his arm around him.

"Thanks," Arnold replied, "But it's not that. _I am_ nervous about today… I did something I shouldn't have done, and I don't know how it's going to affect things between Helga and I," he admitted. "I just hope it doesn't ruin our date or what we have between us."

His father nodded and said, "When do you plan on telling her?"

Arnold paused before speaking.

"Not today," he decided. "I wouldn't want to ruin what we have right now."

His father nodded knowingly and suggested, "Why don't you tell Helga the truth tomorrow? That way, you can still have a nice date with her today, but you won't be keeping her in the dark."

"She's going to be mad at me," Arnold sighed as he looked up at the tree. "I'm just surprised nothing else has come of this."

His parents turned to each other and nodded, the looks in their eyes revealing to the young man that they knew what he'd done.

His mother put a consoling hand onto his shoulder and said, "Chances are that Helga will be upset with you and what you've done, but _I know you,_ Arnold. You're my son, and I know that no matter what, you've always managed to make things right in the end and that nothing's _ever_ stopped you from letting that happen."

"Do you think she'll forgive me?"

"It'll take time, but yes," his father responded. "It will happen."

"Okay," Arnold nodded, feeling reassured as he surveyed the elaborate splendor of the holiday decorations all around him, "I'm going to enjoy today and not worry about tomorrow until it gets here."

His father grinned at him and ruffled his hair. "You're going to have a good day today." Looking at his watch, he said, "Who knew decorating could take up so much time? It's almost time for you to meet Helga! You better get going, Son!"

"Have fun, Arnold!" his mother said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "We'll see you at the party this evening!"

"I will," Arnold said as he walked from the parlor and headed out the door, "Merry Christmas, everyone!" he exclaimed as he waved to everyone in the boardinghouse before he headed out the door.

After shutting the large green door behind him, Arnold bounded down the steps and observed his fellow neighbors dressed in patriotic colors begin the walk to City Hall, where the parade would start. Many people were already lined up along the sidewalks, having brought with them picnic baskets full of food, because they weren't motivated to make the ascent to the very start of the monumental parade. The weather was considerably warmer than it had been when Arnold woke up that morning, and he could see the sun shining brightly in the blue sky even though a few white and grey clouds remained. The houses and businesses around him were decorated in the proper holiday trappings; not that his grandmother's mixing up of the holidays was a bad thing, since it was all the young man knew for the period of his life before he rescued his parents, but since being with them, he'd become accustomed to celebrating the holidays on their given days, and became used to it rather quickly. American flags hung outside the buildings, and some of the houses also had red, white, and blue bunting along the edges. Arrangements of red and white carnations planted inside flowerpots adorned with painted red and white painted stripes, tied with a blue ribbon, hung from each of the lampposts Arnold saw as he continued his walk toward City Hall, where he would meet Helga before the parade started.

As he walked to his destination at City Hall, the teenager exchanged numerous greeting with many of his old classmates and shared a few words with Azad, the kind owner of Bigal's Café. He even ran into Mr. Simmons, who was now completely bald and had a few wrinkles on his face, but still retained the same, happy spirit and enthusiasm for learning and teaching from when he taught Arnold in the fourth, fifth and sixth grades.

Once he reached Town Hall, he saw her. The young woman's flaxen hair fell loosely to her waist in thick, succulent waves, and she wore a skimmer straw hat with a wide, shiny red ribbon circling around the rounded base of the hat and tied into a large bow. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or the way in which Arnold saw Helga, but her red and white striped shirt somehow made her enflamed womb appear smaller, and the boat neck cut of the shirt both emphasized and enhanced her collar bones and shoulder blades. Helga wore a dark blue denim skirt that fell just below her knees, and strappy khaki colored sandals, which showed her toes painted in the color of the American flag. She turned toward Arnold, her face finally masked in that vibrant pregnancy glow he hadn't seen until now; she had two, thin eyebrows instead of just a singular one, her lips seemed fuller, and she wore just enough make-up to enhance her facial features.

She looked beautiful, but she didn't look like anything like herself, let alone like someone who was actually _from_ the country whose independence they were to celebrate.

"You… you remind me – " the young man started, his voice nervous and trembling, as he struggled to speak, trying to release the words the longed to say from his mouth, but to no avail as he continued gazing with wonder at the expectant, but beautified teenager in front of him. He knew it was crazy for him to feel that Helga so strongly resembled the French pen pal he had in the fourth grade, but was it really? Arnold wouldn't _dare_ admit it to anybody, but before Ayanna, and even _before Helga,_ there was Cecile. She convinced him at the tender age of nine that there _was_ such thing as _true love_ at first sight and that you could love a person you only met once, and who then disappeared from your life without any explanation. Though Arnold never wrote Cecile or spoke to her again after that Valentine's Day dinner long ago, he always kept a special place for her in his heart.

Shaking Helga's familiar, but still stunning appearance from his mind and dismissing it as a coincidence, the young man blurted out, "You look _really nice,_ Helga!"

"Thanks, Football Head," Helga said as she adjusted the straw hat on her head with a wide smile upon her face, "You don't think it's _too much,_ do you?"

"No!" Arnold sputtered, his tone of voice short and somewhat jumpy, "Not at all!"

"Really?" she queried, as her entire composure relaxed, "Olga insisted on giving me this full-blown makeover and buying me a new outfit." She shrugged as she looked down at what she wore and added, "I _do_ like the new clothes, but I wish she didn't feel the need to go through so much trouble."

"I'm glad she did," Arnold said, chuckling to himself as he held out his hand for Helga to take, which she did and then squeezed in return.

"You know, it's not often that Olga decides to indulge on me, Arnoldo," Helga laughed, "But she's really been helping me out lately."

Arnold nodded and found that he couldn't take his eyes off of Helga. He studied her profile in great detail, inhaling her enticing apple candy aroma, most likely coming from a perfume Olga let her borrow, but still found that he liked on the young woman next to him all the same. He found himself longing to trace the contours of her face with his single pointer finger before traveling downward and tracing her collarbones and graceful shoulder blades. He longed to let his hands descend along the rest of her body, which was curved and full due to her pregnancy, as he noticed, for the first time, how enhanced her chest had become, and how the effects of her pregnancy were accelerating its growth. He wanted her and he needed her. There was no question about it, for he not only found himself lured toward Helga physically, but he found her personality and who she was all the more irresistible, in spite of her blatant weaknesses.

_He was falling_ _**hard**_ _for…._

"Hey Arnold, the parade's starting!" Helga exclaimed, squeezing his hand extra tight as a way to get his attention, effectively bringing him out of his trance.

He breathed out and watched the parade in boredom as Mayor Dixie waved to the populace from a vintage white T-Bird decorated with patriotic bunting, red and white roses, and miniature American flags. Large balloon floats of Uncle Sam and the Founding Fathers were hoisted high into the sky, and three floats showcasing the winners of the Miss Hillwood Pageant in their respective divisions waved to the crowd on their ornate beacons, as a large marching band trailed behind them, along with troops of boy and girl scouts dressed in their uniforms. Dino Spumoni had his own float, which was decorated with a Big Band era theme, and he sang many of his old musical hits even though they clashed terribly with the music from the marching band in front of him. Students from the state university marched on, categorized with their various departments. As the students of the law school marched by, Arnold found himself extremely annoyed by a woman pushing fifty who kept shrieking "Hurrah for court reform!" at the law students and their professors. Of course, that was nothing compared to the tirade she raised as the Family & Human Development department marched by, and her shouts turned into, "Nice going, MRS. degree!"

The young man put a hand to his head and rolled his eyes at the woman's immature behavior as the Hillwood High School dance team performed an elaborate number to an R&B number, and various philanthropists drove by in T-Birds decorated just like Mayor Dixie's as the music continued conflicting from the songs that were already playing. The young man's tiresomeness from the whole event increased as he found himself only wanting to be with Helga, who also seemed to be bored out of her mind. It was interesting how time could do that to a person. When Arnold was younger, he looked forward to the annual Fourth of July parade, but only because it allowed him to celebrate the _actual_ holiday as opposed to having Christmas in July. However, he was older now, and liked to think himself wiser to an extent, and he knew there were more important things in life, such as family, being there for the friends who needed you most, and ultimately, love.

Turning to the young woman next to him, he whispered in her ear, "Would you like to leave the parade early, My Lady?"

"I thought you would never ask!" Helga exhaled, "Let's go!"

She took his hand in hers, and the two walked to Tina Park together. When they got there, they found that several people were already there. Most of them were teenagers themselves, who were likely bored with the parade and didn't stick out for as long as Arnold and Helga had.

Mr. Green of Green's Meats and Harold prepared an assortment of meaty delights, which were placed on a picnic table covered in a blue and white checkered tablecloth to the right of where they barbecued the main courses. There were plates of chicken slathered in thick sauce, ribs that were so tender that they fell off the bone, grilled tri-tip and chicken, which were leaner, less fattening options, cheeseburgers, and hot dogs. On the table next to them, which was also adorned with a blue and white checkered tablecloth, held all the condiments for the cheeseburgers and hot dongs, ranging from ketchup, mustard, tomatoes, onions, pickles, jalapeños, guacamole, peppers, relish, and chili. The third and final table was covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth and was laden down with bowls of chips, platters of watermelon, other fruits, crunchy vegetables, assorted desserts, including sugar cookies decorated with red, white, and blue frosting, plates, napkins, and silverware, along with large ice chests filled with sodas on the benches, and a few odd, greenish JELL-O concoctions with vegetables floating around inside the unconventional food dishes.

"_Gross!"_ Helga cried out in horror as her face turned a sickly green color while she looked at the gelatinous salads. "Who invited their relatives from the Beehive State to this?"

Arnold turned his attention toward a couple and their two teenaged children, who watched in embarrassment as their extended family, consisting of a harried, stressed out couple who were only just entering middle age, donning matching red shirts and khaki shorts, being chased by a whole slew of their young children behind them, who all wore the exact same outfit.

"_Oh,"_ Helga responded, chortling to herself with quietness as her face turned from being light green to a peaky shade of pale.

"You don't look very good Helga," Arnold said, concerned for the pregnant teenager as he put his arm around her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Helga responded as she put her hands to her stomach. "All these weird JELL-O plates are making me nauseous, and the sight and smell of the meat doesn't help either. Eating meat or having it near me didn't make me feel sick until recently, even though I know _he_ never liked it back when I _could_ actually enjoy my favorite spicy hot wings."

"Why didn't you say anything when I invited you to go to this?" Arnold asked. "The _last_ thing I want for you is to be uncomfortable!"

Helga shrugged. "You seemed really excited about it, and I know that you're still catching up with people since you moved, and I didn't want to intrude on that."

"Don't even worry about it," Arnold said as he found a ginger ale from the ice chest and handed it to Helga. Changing the subject, he inquired, "Do you think your son will be a vegetarian?"

"He _better_ be, considering that I had to give up my trips to the Lake Union Steakhouse for _his_ wellbeing," Helga replied, opening the can of ginger ale and drinking it slowly. "I _swear,_ if he's _anything_ like Bob as far as being a meat lover goes…" her blue eyes softened as she said, with a far-off look in her eyes, "I just hope Kevin and Christine will teach him the importance of good nutrition and actually pack _real food_ in his lunch when he goes to school."

Arnold watched Helga as the color began coming back to her face while she continued drinking the can of ginger ale she held in her hand. The blonde teenager realized that even though Helga wouldn't be raising her son and that as a result, she wouldn't in _any_ means be considered his parent, she was still his mother. The young woman chose to let her son live despite the opposition facing her, and she carried, loved, and nurtured him in the process, possessing the knowledge that in doing so, she was giving up her physical wellness and would have to face insufferable pain in bringing her child into the world. Helga would go through hell and back, only to give her baby to people she knew could better provide for him.

She was a mother because she cared about her son, and because she was a mother, she sacrificed everything for him even though he had yet to be born.

"Helga, do you want to leave the barbecue? We can head back to my house," he suggested. "My parents probably need help setting up for the rooftop party, and you can rest while I do all the heavy lifting," he added, laughing to himself.

He watched as Helga's face reacquired the glow of health and rosiness it contained earlier in the day after finishing her ginger ale and said, "Are you sure, Arnold? I _do_ feel better, and I don't want for you to have to leave because _I_ wasn't feeling good earlier."

"Yes, I'm sure," Arnold said, grinning at her. "Besides, the barbecue's gotten really crowded," he added, indicating to the increased populace of people among him and Helga, which included groups of rowdy children running about the park and knocking some of the food on the tables upon the ground beneath them. "I'll get you a plate of vegetables you can munch on to settle your stomach more, and then we'll feed you at the house."

When he saw Helga's face, he assured her, "Don't worry! Since my parents and I came back here, they've done _all_ the cooking."

"Okay," Helga laughed, "We'll head on over."

After divvying up a plate of vegetables of Helga and retrieving another can of ginger ale just in case, the two walked arm in arm to the boardinghouse. Helga at the vegetables on her plate with her spare hand while Arnold smiled to himself, enjoying the holiday, but at the same time, dreading tomorrow, when he would have to tell Helga the truth. He wondered if the fog and clouds of bleakness that hung over the city earlier in the day meant anything or signified what was to befall him. A small part of him wondered what Sid was doing at that very moment, because he didn't see him at the parade or at the barbecue earlier.

He shook the thoughts from his head and continued walking with Helga, hoping that the rest of their date would continue to go smoothly.

**II**

Instead of vomiting the contents of her previous meals at the park that afternoon, Helga found herself sitting in a deck chair on the roof of the Sunset Arms boardinghouse after eating a turkey sandwich and a bag of chips Arnold prepared for her watching as he, along with his parents, grandparents, and the rest of the boarders, set up the tables and chairs for the party to be held that evening, brought up several boxes of fireworks, and put up several large American flags and other patriotic ornamentation, even though Arnold's grandmother managed to sneak in some holly and mistletoe to string along with the red, white, and blue twinkling lights on the tower and along the border of the house. Helga felt bad for not helping, and felt like she needed to be doing something, but Arnold, along with his parents and grandparents, insisted that she get her rest and not strain herself.

Though she wanted to help Arnold and the rest of his family, both immediate and extended in setting up for the party, she found that having the opportunity to sit back and relax gave her some much-needed time to actually _think_ about the direction that her life was moving in.

Since telling her family of her plans to pursue adoption for her child, Olga and her mother couldn't stop talking about it, and always delighted in hearing Kevin and Christine's story. The found it to be truly romantic. Oftentimes, whenever Olga was in her most whimsical of moods, took to reciting sections from their adoption profile with dramatic flair, much to Bob's frustration, who claimed that he'd rather hear songs from _Rats_, the loathed musical that she would soon make her imminent Broadway debut in as the female lead. He was still skeptical about the adoption and refused to look at Kevin and Christine's portfolio. In contrast, Helga's mother continued assuring her daughter that she was doing the right thing, and always let her know that she had her support.

Despite Bob's reluctance, he approved the pending adoption. Even though he did so grudgingly, Helga was grateful to him for allowing her to make the best possible decision for her baby. At her previous appointment with Doctor Bliss, the supportive psychologist revealed that she called the agency that would oversee the adoption. The paperwork was going through smoothly, and Helga had the opportunity to meet the adoption agent she'd been assigned to. Her name as Rosemary and she was a sweet, grandmotherly type who had an air of refinement to her. Rosemary and her husband, an accomplished child advocacy attorney, successfully raised three sons into adulthood and had three grandchildren of their own. Additionally, she also made the best lemon cookies and presented Helga with a large box of them at their first meeting that took place in Doctor Bliss' office.

The kind agent informed Helga that she contacted Kevin and Christine, who were in Ghana at the present time. Christine oversaw the construction of numerous schools for both adults and children, while Kevin administered vaccines and helped in the building of a children's hospital. Rosemary informed them that Helga chose them to be the adoptive parents to her unborn son, and the two were very excited and looked forward to meeting with her. Following several additional phone calls, the faxing of paperwork back and forth between the three of them, and numerous negotiations between the adoption agency, Kevin and Christine, and UNICEF, a date was finally set for Helga to meet and become acquainted with the couple who would raise her son and witness him grow up.

Helga was scheduled to meet with Kevin and Christine on July twenty-sixth, and to the young woman, the date couldn't come fast enough. Though the expectant teenager knew with every fiber of her being that the young couple she already felt she knew so well by merely looking at their pictures and reading their memoirs several times over were the people meant to raise her child and be his parents, she still yearned to meet them in person and have the opportunity to interact with them. Helga looked forward to the meeting, but was also anxious. She knew Kevin and Christine would develop their first distinct impressions of her from that meeting and would be the ones to tell her son what she was like. The young woman hoped the couple wouldn't pass judgment on her, but as Arnold said, Helga would've chosen to place her son with another couple had they given her that impression in the first place.

"There!" Arnold said, as he walked backwards and stood next to where Helga sat, effectively bringing her from her thoughts on her future meeting with Kevin and Christine to where he stood next to her, giving the young woman a perfect view of his nice ass. Resisting the urge to ogle at it, she turned toward her beloved and listened as he explained, "Everything's set up and ready to go! We'll bring up the food when people start arriving, which should be in about an hour or so," he said, checking his watch.

"How long will this party last for?" Helga inquired. "It's only four!"

"Knowing my Grandma," Arnold said smiling, "The party will probably last all night." Glancing at his watch for the second time, he said, "I need to freshen up a bit before people start arriving. Do you mind waiting in my room while I do so? We'll take the stairs in the tower and then I'll meet you there when I'm done."

"That works," Helga said as she followed him to the tower, where the two of them made the downstairs descent to his bedroom, where Arnold retrieved some fresh clothes and a towel.

I shouldn't take too long," Arnold said as he looked around his room. "I would have you hang out with the other boarders if you wanted, since my parents are busy with the food, but I'm sure there's only so much insanity you can take."

"You got that right, Football Head," Helga said, taking a seat on his bed. She waved to him as he left the room and lay back on his bed, closing her eyes. She remembered with nostalgia the first time she was in Arnold's room during the fourth grade. Her nine-year-old self snuck in through one of the windows, hoping to retrieve the little pink book that accidentally found itself in the grasp of her true love. She camped out in Arnold's closet as she waited for the opportune moment to sneak back into his room, get her book back, and then get out, but the prospect never presented itself, and she found herself sleeping in his closet… likewise, she also spent nights in the crawl space behind his red couch, in the basement, on the roof of the boardinghouse, and even found herself waking up on his fire escape and at the kitchen table.

"The things I did for your affection, Arnoldo," Helga yawned as she looked at the little pink book that once belonged to her on the very top of the bookcase next to the bed. Turning her body toward the numerous shelves in front of her and looked at all the books and trinkets Arnold kept there. She'd already seen them from when they spent time in his room together since his return to Hillwood, but his extensive range of likes and interests still fascinated her even to this day. Helga knew he loved jazz music, was passionate about scientific subjects all across the spectrum, and was prone to quote Walt Whitman on occasion. Arnold never ceased to be a loyal friend, and was an amazing, affectionate, and caring boyfriend during the days of their courtship.

Resting her hands on her engorged abdomen, Helga had no doubt that Arnold would grow up to be a good, hardworking man who would see much success during his lifetime. She knew that somewhere in the wide, wide world that a _very_ fortunate young woman would be lucky enough to be called _his._ The young woman was well aware of the fact that whoever had Arnold Shortman as a husband wouldn't need anymore in life, and neither would the children the two would share in their happy union of ideal bliss and optimism matched perfectly with a sense of reality that would balance everything out. Arnold would grow up to be a good husband and father to his future wife and progeny, and there was no doubt in the pregnant young woman's mind that the future Shortman family would have many happy days together.

Helga only wished that lucky woman could be her.

She _had_ thought about it numerous of times. She knew she could woo Arnold and persuade him to stay in Hillwood as his parents resumed their global sojourn around the world. Helga had no doubt that if she let him, that he would choose to stay involved in Paul's life (she still liked the name and called her son that in spite of her plans to pursue adoption) and that he'd be more than willing to be her son's father figure. More than once, she took to picturing herself grown up and beautiful, on the beach watching as a little blonde boy with her face and mischievous blue eyes ran toward Arnold, who held his arms out open to him. Paul called Arnold "Dad," and then a few more blonde children – another boy who looked like Helga, two girls, and a small boy with a football shaped head, all blonde, linked hands with her, Arnold, and Paul as they walked along the beach, the ocean vibrant and mellow, the sunset in front of them spectacular, and a lighthouse within the distance symbolizing light, hope, and the notion that all was well.

However, as fast as the fantasy often formed in her mind, Helga was quick to get it out of her stream of consciousness, because she was all too aware of the fact that it would never happen. She knew that like her unborn child, that Arnold deserved to have all the best opportunities in life. It wouldn't be fair for her to have him take on the position of being a father figure to her baby at the age of fifteen, especially since he had nothing to do with her son's conception. The young woman knew that it was ultimately wrong for her to tie down Arnold when he deserved so much more than what she could do for him in return. His friendship meant everything to her now, and the kindness he showed her, along with his refusal to criticize Helga for her past actions was more than she could ever repay.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Helga sat up, still keeping one hand on her stomach, and turned on the brown, antiquarian radio that stood on the centered, bottom shelf. She smiled softly to herself upon hearing the relaxing, smooth sound of John Coltrane's "Naima" make its way through her ears and into Arnold's room. His radio was always set to MJAZZ by default, and it was one of the many quirks the young man possessed that she loved.

"This song is one of my favorites," Arnold smiled as he stepped back inside his room, now wearing a white collared shirt instead of the navy blue polo he wore earlier. He still wore khaki slacks and his red Converse sneakers, but Helga could tell that he showered because the alluring scent of his shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and even his cologne infiltrated her senses and made the young woman long to hold him close to her. Staring at her with an odd look in his green eyes as he tilted his head slightly to the right, a small smile playing on his lips, he said, "The party's started. Would you like to come up with me?"

He held his hand out to her.

"Yes," Helga answered. "Let's go."

She placed her hand inside of his as he helped her up. They held hands the entire time as they took the tower stairs up to the roof of the Sunset Arms. When Arnold opened the door, Helga found herself facing a large crowd of dancing partygoers wearing red, white and blue. Some donned Uncle Sam top hats and to Helga's amusement, she spotted Gertie dressed as Paul Revere, running around the rooftop screaming, "The British are coming!"

In addition to the large American flags that hung from their respective poles around the party landscape, the twinkling lights that were set up earlier sparkled, and red, white, and blue balloons were positioned all around the dance floor. To the right of the tower was a large stereo system, playing songs from all musical genres spanning several decades, though the music was often turned off on occasion to allow for a few people to play the piano that'd been brought up from the parlor, though the more "contemporary" music often trumped the jingling of the piano keys, much to the dismay of Arnold's grandmother.

A large buffet table served various desserts, including brownies, toppings for ice-cream sundaes such as chocolate and caramel syrup, gummy bears and worms, sprinkles, nuts, whipped cream, maraschino cherries, and crushed, assorted candies. Every type of cake imaginable was on display and up for grabs, along with several plates containing cookies, doughnuts, scones, and numerous tarts. Located at the end of the table was a large punchbowl.

Helga, who still held hands with Arnold, turned to him and grinned.

"Pretty cool party, Football Head," she said, grinning at him, as she raised their arms in the air, allowing him to twirl her around before they found themselves face to face with their arms wrapped around the other person.

They stared at each other momentarily, enabling Helga to take in the essence of Arnold's face. His emerald eyes, contrasted against an unblemished, tanned complexion, stared at her deeply, as though they surveyed every part of her body. The young man's mouth was slightly ajar as he continued staring at Helga, while his quiet breaths, which smelled like spearmint gum, fell onto her skin. He tightened his grip on her just slightly before he started blushing.

"Would you like to dance?" he queried, as he straightened Helga upward. The young man panted slightly, and appeared to be nervous.

Helga nodded, and she watched as Arnold placed his left hand on her waist before taking her hand. The two began dancing to a slow, peaceful jazz tune as she watched the other couples around her. Gerald and Phoebe danced together, and their eyes were closed as they swayed back and forth to the music. Miles and Stella danced together, smiling at each other, and even Phil and Gertie, who weren't afraid of being unconventional, looked serene. While dancing with Arnold, the young woman watched as many of the people she grew up and attended school with either danced to the slow jazz piece with their partners, ate food at the buffet table, or simply watched the other dancers around them. She noticed that people such as the sixth grade girls she remembered seeing strut down the hallways during their days at P.S. 118 were in attendance at the party, and were uncharacteristically nice to her throughout the evening, as were many of her old classmates, who upon learning of her predicament, didn't know how to respond to seeing the class bully in such a vulnerable position.

She was bewildered as to why people aside from Arnold, Phoebe, Gerald, Whitney, and Arnold's family were being nice to her now, but she didn't let the thought rest in her head for too long as she continued to embrace the fact that she was on a _date_ with Arnold and that he was dancing with _her._

As the young man twirled her around again, she inquired, "What's this song, Arnold?"

"The song we're dancing to, My Lady," Arnold said, his voice filled with a mixture of playfulness and gravity, "Is 'It Never Entered My Mind' by Miles Davis."

"I like it," Helga told him.

"It reminds me of you."

Helga smiled to herself as the song ended and the fast paced music that dominated the party earlier resumed playing.

Nearly everyone began dancing to the songs playing from the large stereo system. Helga, who now found that it was _her_ turn for her cheeks to turn red, turned to Arnold and smiled jokingly at him, asking him in a more silent approach if he would dance with her.

Arnold nodded and smiled widely, indicating for Gerald and Phoebe to join them. The enthusiastic couple instantly appeared next to Helga and Arnold, and the four began dancing to an eclectic mix consisting of KC and the Sunshine Band, "The Macarena," Billy Idol, some one-hit wonders from the eighties, and modern dance hits. The circle continued to grow larger, and soon everyone was dancing and cheering on the dancers in the middle who decided to branch out.

At this point, the sky was illuminated against a backdrop of stars and a full moon, giving Miles, Phil, and Gertie the perfect opportunity to shoot off the numerous fireworks they brought up to the roof earlier in the day. Stella handed out sparklers to the party guests while Miles, Phil, and Gertie shot off red, white, blue, and gold fireworks into the night sky. Stars made from large combinations of fireworks dotted the sky along with the Kamuro, Diadem, Catherine Wheels, and Crossettes. Gerald shot off a few multi-colored Piccolo Petes and fun continued to be had by all as all the fireworks and sparklers continued to be used up by those at the party, food was still consumed, and people kept dancing.

Helga beamed as she kept dancing with Arnold close to her, realizing that this was the most fun she had in a long time.

Until it all stopped.

Amidst the smoke still remaining from the fireworks, clad in all black skintight clothing, save for his trademark green backwards cap, and holding up a pair of scissors with a small piece of electric cord from the stereo, stood Sid Gifaldi.

"Nice party, _Arnold,_" Sid said darkly as he walked toward the football headed teenager, his movements fluid and scarily smooth. He didn't seem nervous at all. "I see you went _all out_ and didn't bother to invite me."

"_Get_ _**out,**_ _Sid,"_ the young blonde snarled as his fists curled in anger. _"Get_ _**the hell**_ _out of here!"_

Helga looked at Arnold and then turned to Sid as an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding rose in her chest. Her son clearly felt the anxiety she felt as he began flailing madly inside of her, not liking what was happening anymore than she did.

Sid however, didn't look at Helga. Looking at Arnold straight in the eyes, he said, _"I'll_ _**get the hell**_ _out of here whenever it pleases me to do so."_ He strode toward the buffet table holding all the food and eyed it briefly before turning around to face Arnold again.

He remarked coolly, "I didn't have a whole lot of fun at the party at the Community Center last week. Did you?"

"Sid – " Arnold tried reasoning with him, but to no avail because the apparently nonchalant teenager across from him refused to listen.

The young woman walked up and stood next to her date, not liking where this was going.

"What's going on, Arnold?" she asked, frightened.

"If you don't get out of here Sid, I'll – "

"What will you do?" Sid interrupted. "Will you try to 'out' me on some other aspect of my life that was _never_ any of your damn business in the first place?" he asked, continuing to ignore Helga. "Am I in for another blasted lecture in front of the populace?" he demanded, indicating to the spectators in the crowd.

Brushing past she and Arnold, Sid stared at the people watching them and said, "Do any of you understand that Helga Pataki isn't the only victim here?"

Helga found herself recoiling away from Arnold, who stretched out his arm in an attempt to console her as feelings of panic and distress arose within her entire being. She looked at the young man standing next to her and saw that he was scared too.

"We always knew Helga was a bully," Sid said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Whether it was the usage of her fists or the way she stared daggers at us in the school hallways, we always knew she wasn't a force to be reckoned with. Of course, the two of us became friends in the seventh grade after Mr. Do-Good," he pointed to Arnold, "Left the neighborhood and decided to be a globetrotting saint. Over the years, Helga and I became closer, and soon I found myself wanting her more than anything. Of course, I learned the hard way that Helga could take her bullying to the next level and to its very extreme."

The crowd was now silent.

"Do _any_ of you know how it feels to be led along in the manner that Helga Pataki did to _me?_ Can any of you fathom the despair that enters upon giving your all to someone, only to be tossed aside like you're something worthless?"

Helga watched as he looked at everyone in the crowd. Though she could only see his backside, she knew his dark brown eyes were filled with menace.

"_That's_ what happened. Helga Pataki did that to _me._"

Sid turned around and walked toward the refreshment table, still seeming to ignore Helga as tears brimmed her eyelashes and threatened to fall. She pushed herself away from Arnold's grasp and didn't know whether to be angry at him for breaking his promise to her or hurt by what Sid was doing by embarrassing her in front of all these people, _especially_ her date.

She called his name, wanting to speak with him, only for the father of her child to throw the large punchbowl in her direction, drenching her in the red, sugary drink before saying to Arnold, "The dessert here isn't quite up to par."

The young angry teenager approached Sid and thundered at him, "YOU NEED TO LEAVE!"

However, the irresponsible adolescent only glared at Arnold, who seethed with rage before Helga felt him approaching her. The young woman soon found herself facing him, still feeling sticky and gross from the residue of the punch that was drying on her skin and staining her clothes. Their faces and bodies were so close together that even their noses touched.

"_**I loved you,"**_ Sid said to her.

Then, she saw nothing but black, and came to the realization that after struggling to open her eyes, Sid had smashed a large chocolate cake with butter cream frosting all across her face and smeared it all down her front.

He was gone.

"Helga," Arnold said, his voice quiet. She felt him touch her shoulders gently but pulled away from him. "I'm sorry… we can help you get cleaned up if you want."

"Go away Arnold," Helga spat viciously, her arms folded over her chest, looking downward. She walked away from everyone's stares, not bothering to meet their gazes as she stepped inside the tower, slammed the door behind her, and headed down the stairs as fast as her swollen, pregnant body would let her.

"_Helga, wait!"_ Arnold cried out as he chased her down the stairs, _"Please!"_

The young woman refused to turn around, let alone look at him.

"_Let him follow me all the way outside,"_ she thought with bitterness as she walked through the boardinghouse she knew all too well, still ignoring Arnold's pleas behind her. _"I don't care."_

When she found herself outside, the chilled evening air encompassing her body, she began walking home, but could still hear Arnold behind her.

She thought of tormenting Arnold by having him follow her all the way home on foot only to turn him away, but soon found that she couldn't stand to be in the same vicinity as him.

Turning around to face the young man in anger, she yelled, raising her hand into the air impulsively as if to strike him, "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?"

"Helga – "

"_How dare you!"_ she shouted, looking at him with wrath. _"Why did you confront Sid about this when I_ _**specifically**_ _asked you_ _**not**_ _to? HOW_ _**DARE**_ _YOU LIE TO ME LIKE THAT?"_

"I'm sorry Helga!" Arnold told her miserably, shrinking away from her raised hand. "It wasn't my place to bring up what happened between you and Sid to him, and I feel horrible! I never meant to hide the truth from you, and I was going to tell you tomorrow, but I didn't want to ruin our date."

Helga exhaled slowly, lowered her hand, and shook her head.

"Go ahead and hit me, Helga," Arnold told her calmly when he noticed that her hand now hung at her side, "You know I deserve it."

"Does that song we danced to earlier _really_ remind you of me?" Helga inquired icily, staring at him. She waited for an answer to come, _the answer she wanted to hear so badly,_ but it never did.

His silence spoke volumes, and Helga knew the truth, her fury now beyond contentious yelling, words, and the desire to hit the only person she ever truly loved.

"Just leave me _alone,_ Arnold," she ordered, glaring at him.

"At least let me help you!" Arnold begged walking closer to her, "I can walk you home or give you change for bus fare!" he said, holding out the two quarters he got out from his left pocket, only for him to blush embarrassingly when he realized that the last bus went out long ago.

"_Don't talk to me, don't call me, don't come by my house, and_ _**don't chase after me**__,"_ she snarled before turning her back on him. _"Leave me alone, Football Head."_

After Helga turned around, she began the walk home with her arms wrapped tightly around her growing abdomen, feeling sweaty from the remains of the punch and the cake still lingering on her. The return seemed to take an eternity as her steps felt sluggish and heavy.

When she found herself outside her house, she bent down slowly, relying on the porch steps for support as she picked up the key from underneath the doormat and let herself into the house.

It was dark as Helga walked up the stairs and into the bathroom to cleanse herself. Turning on the light and facing her reflection in the mirror, she was revolted at the sight in front of her. She noticed her hair was drenched with punch and that some bits of cake and frosting made their way into her flaxen locks. Her face was covered in the confectionary treat, the punch having already dried and seeped its way into her fair skin. The red and white striped shirt Helga wore was stained an odd shade of red, black, and pale yellow from a combination of the sugar drink and cake. The young woman looked down and saw that most of it rested squarely on her stomach, with the rest of it trailing down her skirt.

Helga wondered how long Sid's hands lingered on her stomach and if they were there long enough for him to feel their son kick and move around inside her.

It didn't matter.

"_**You're not good enough!"**_ Helga shrieked at her reflection, cursing herself.

She threw her straw hat onto the ground and stepped on it before splashing her face with cold water, her tears smearing her mascara all down her cheeks.

"_Well_ _**thank God**_ _you're giving your baby to people who can actually take care of him, because you_ _**can't!**__"_ she shouted at herself.

"You're _**not good enough**_ for your little boy, _**or**_ for Kevin and Christine, who'll look at you and wonder how the hell you got into this mess… _don't be surprised if they don't have anything good to say about you!_ _Just be grateful that they'll raise your son right, because you most certainly aren't capable of doing it!_"

The young woman turned away from the mirror and buried her face in her hands as she fell onto the ground. She sobbed as she curled herself up into the fetal position and cradled her belly, relying on the movements of her child to comfort her in this time of distress.

She choked back her tears and sputtered out, "Why are you mad at Arnold when you're not even _good enough_ _for_ _him?_"

**III**

There was no doubt in Irene's mind.

She watched Helga sit across from her on the purple couch, her face morose and her entire countenance burdened by an unspeakable sorrow, keeping quiet about the events in her life unless it pertained to her child or Kevin and Christine. The date for their meeting was fast approaching and imminent. Earlier, Helga had first exhibited excitement upon learning that all the paperwork was being processed without any trouble, her meeting with her adoption agent had gone well, and looked forward to meeting her son's parents. Now, the young woman appeared to be frightened and often posed doubt over whether or not to relinquish her child to Kevin and Christine. Though it appeared to the typical person that the young woman was simply going through with the notion because she knew there was no turning back, Irene knew that wasn't the case. She knew Helga didn't possess any uncertainty concerning her decision to pursue adoption, and knew that there were other reasons as to why Helga feigned hesitation over what she'd chosen to do.

Irene knew why Helga acted that way.

It was because she was miserable without him.

Subsequent to the Fourth of July, Helga entered Irene's office on the day of their appointment after the holiday heartbroken, upset, and not wishing to talk about anything. The pained teenager recounted through her tears how her date with Arnold went from being something truly wonderful to nothing but a lie when the father of her child crashed his party, publicly humiliated her in front of everyone there, and then revealed to all the guests that Arnold broke the promise he made to her when she revealed her son's paternity to him, having the confidence that he wouldn't say anything more about it. The mistrustful, soon-to-be teenage father also told everyone that Helga broke his heart in setting him up for romantic failure and that she wasn't entirely deserving of the sympathy she received from those around her.

The young woman was devastated and hurt that Arnold betrayed her trust. In her anger, she asked that he stay out of her life.

"You don't really want that," Irene said knowingly. "You miss Arnold."

Helga brought her knees in close to her body and wrapped her arms around them before she replied, her voice gloomy, "I _can't_ talk to anyone else…. I _want_ to talk to Arnold, but I can't forget what he did to me! That _really_ hurt!"

"Nobody likes being lied to," the kind psychologist agreed with her patient.

The young woman sighed and said, her voice filled with bitterness as she brought her knees out and crossed her legs, "Whitney ended up going to Hawaii to visit her family, and she won't be back until later… she _should_ see her family… I'm not against it, but it makes it hard for me to talk to her.

"It makes me sad," she went on, her voice breaking, "Whitney has a good family life… and so do Arnold and Phoebe…"

Burying her face in her hands, she added, "Even _my son_ will have a good family life, but _not me!_"

Once again, Irene found herself sitting on the couch next to Helga, hugging her patient close to her as she soothed the young woman and thought of the words of comfort she could offer.

"Have you talked to Phoebe lately?" Irene inquired, recalling how before Helga became pregnant, she often mentioned her best friend, how they maintained their friendship during their preschool days, and how she was the first person to know of her feelings for Arnold. It appeared as though the circumstances that brought about Helga's pregnancy kept them apart.

"We're both on different paths in life," Helga lamented as she shook her head. "Phoebe's busy. She has a boyfriend and all that summer coursework for her Advanced Placement and Honors classes. She's working full time… and even if she didn't have all those obligations, what would she say to _me?_"

Irene paused and thought about what to tell Helga before saying, "Try to include Phoebe more in your life. It probably doesn't show when you see or interact with her, but chances are that she feels left out. She probably wishes that you would talk to her more."

The expectant young woman sighed and said, "I've lost both my best friend… and the only person I truly love." After taking a deep breath, she asked, "What if it doesn't go well when I talk to Phoebe again?"

"Phoebe has always been concerned about your wellbeing," Irene assured her. "If you make the effort to contact her, I'm sure she'd be thrilled to hear from you."

"Really?" Helga asked, her voice a little more hopeful.

Irene smiled slightly and continued, "As for Arnold… you feel that what he did was wrong, and I don't blame you for feeling that way. The father of your son needed, and still needs, to an extent, to be put in his place. Arnold did that, and he did so because he cares about you and only wants you to be happy."

Helga nodded, looked at her psychologist, and said, "Is it weird that even though I asked Arnold not to talk to me or come and see me… that I still wish he would?"

"You miss him," Irene repeated.

"I do," Helga sighed, "But he went to the city shortly after what happened, and I don't know when he'll get back… talking with him over the phone just seems so impersonal now."

"Helga, it seems that your course of action is right where you can see it."

The young woman smiled to herself and said, turning to Irene, "It always is after I have a session with you."

**IV**

Arnold sighed as he lay on the bed inside his hotel room in the big city overlooking the Statue of Liberty. After the Fourth of July fiasco, he became withdrawn and didn't want to talk about what happened. When his behavior persisted after a week, his parents booked a nice hotel in the city and took him to all the sites, even though he'd already seen them all. They felt that Arnold needed to get away from Hillwood and keep his mind occupied, and he'd been in the city ever since, with no plans to leave anytime soon even though the month of July was ending.

The young man was grateful that his parents didn't push what had occurred on Independence Day on him. They never pressed the subject or talked about it themselves, choosing instead to let their son come to them when he was ready.

Standing up from his place on the bed, Arnold walked out to the balcony and watched the city lights in front of him illuminate themselves against the dark night sky. He was alone for the evening, as his mother and father were out to dinner with a group of friends who worked for the United Nations, the World Health Organization, and other such charities. Since arriving in the city, his well-meaning parents kept him busy and constantly on the move, leaving the young man exhausted and grateful that they didn't drag him out to dinner with them. He was fine with room service and a quiet night in listening to his favorite jazz tunes on the WBGO, which was what he'd been doing for the past hour and a half.

Arnold longed to be with Helga, and was distraught when she told him not to come see or speak to her. He knew it was his fault and that he'd only brought his punishment upon himself by proving himself to be untrustworthy in Helga's eyes. He missed Helga greatly and wanted her, but recognized that he should honor her wishes and give her space. The young man hoped that upon his return to Hillwood that she would want to reconcile with him, giving him the perfect opportunity to apologize to her, but at the same time didn't expect to receive that forgiveness when he didn't feel deserving of it.

Even if she never forgave him, he still owed her that much.

Deciding to turn in for the night, he walked toward his dresser and was about to pull out his pajamas when he heard someone knocking on the door from outside.

Closing the dresser drawer in front of him, Arnold answered the door not knowing who it'd be. Upon seeing the person in front of him, it took everything he had not to gasp in shock.

Standing in front of him was a gorgeous young woman wearing a strapless green sundress that accentuated her fit and toned body. The color of the dress brought out her large, doe eyes, and her collarbones and ears were accentuated through the means of gold jewelry accented with emeralds. Her long, chocolate locks of hair were pulled back just slightly with an emerald and golden hairclip, which still allowed to loose tendrils of hair to frame her face nicely. Her lips were a stunning, Venetian red, causing Arnold's heart to pound loudly within his chest.

"Hi Arnold," she smiled at him.

The sound of her voice and her lemon verbena perfume sent him into a tailspin.

_Ayanna._

**V**

Finding himself standing by Mighty Pete once again, watching as little children played inside its confines without a care in the world, Sid found himself yearning for a simpler time filled with innocence, endless baseball games at Gerald Field, and when the words 'guilty conscience' weren't in his vocabulary.

He refused to go by Slausen's, knowing the kind and perceptive, though oftentimes eccentric owner would be disappointed in him upon learning that the advice he gave him only went to waste.

It was just better to run away.

Sid already had, in his abandonment of Helga. He ran away from the wise counsel given him after being put to the test and deciding that revenge was much more appealing. He thought once, twice, during his little show on the roof of Arnold's boardinghouse about what he was doing. It hit him that he was going about everything the wrong way after drenching the mother of his child with a staining, sugary drink and as he covered her in cake. The full impact of what he was doing came to him even harder as his hands fell on her swelled stomach and rested there for a moment, and he could actually feel their child moving about inside her. Sid dismissed it with the adrenaline he felt upon getting back at someone, though, not bothering to think more about it as he carried out his vain plans.

The young man noticed that the people were in attendance at the Community Center party, along with those at Arnold's house, never said anything about his part in Helga's pregnancy after what happened.

His parents still didn't know.

At first, Sid thought it was luck.

Truthfully, it was because those who already knew were waiting for him to take that initiative and be the man he was supposed to be so long ago.

It was easier to run away, but maybe he didn't want that anymore.

Not knowing what to expect, Sid soon found himself at Slausen's, with the restaurant itself completely crowded again like it was the last time he was there as people ate and spoke loudly over the blues music of B.B. King that played from the vintage jukebox to the left of the counter.

Even though the restaurant was full, Mr. Slausen, who sat on a stool at the counter, eccentrically dressed, saw him, and stared at the young man with his dark brown eyes.

"Sid Gifaldi," the elderly man greeted him as he walked closer to the owner of the restaurant, hesitating as he took each successive step, "I take it that advice I gave you didn't exactly sink into you like I hoped it would."

Sid gritted his teeth, humiliated. He hoped Mr. Slausen wouldn't realize that he _did_ find the man's advice useful, but that vengeance itself was more appealing. However, the teenager was sure that the wise owner of the ice-cream parlor would figure it out eventually.

"No," Sid responded, "The advice you gave me… I actually needed to hear."

"I see," Mr. Slausen nodded, his dark eyes telling Sid that he had an idea pertaining to what happened.

"I don't feel any better. I feel worse," Sid admitted. "Do you have a minute?"

The older man nodded, and spotting an empty booth from the corner of his eye, stood up from his place at the counter and motioned for Sid to follow him.

After the two sat down and after Mr. Slausen ordered for the both of them, he turned to Sid and said, "Fire away, Mr. Gifaldi."

The realization of what the young man needed to do finally came to him.

He had to go back.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "Hey Ya" which was written by André Benjamin and originally performed by the band OutKast. I also do not own the cover version performed by Obadiah Parker. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	12. Embers And Envelopes

**Chapter XII: Embers And Envelopes**

_We write to apologize_  
_We ask to look past life as it goes by_  
_I know you have sacrificed time_, _life, love, time to fly_  
_Please consider all things trite_  
_Forgiveness will be the thing that gets us by_  
_I know to have something like this broken is hard to fix_

_We write to patch things up_, _maybe not to agree, but to proclaim love_  
_Let's look ahead and then we'll see the one_ _whose glory never ends_  
_And based on that we'll see,_ _there'll be room for change, but gradually_  
_I know to have something like this_ _broken is hard to fix_

_If all is said and done and over,_ _if we don't have to, we're not gonna_  
_Make the change, it's worth the try_  
_What's broken can be fixed tonight_

_Embers, we're burning bridges down  
Envelopes stuffed with feelings found  
To write this down as means to reconcile_

~Mae, "Embers And Envelopes"~

* * *

**I**

"Ayanna!" Arnold cried out, his voice slightly strained and his breath heavy, "What brings you here?"

The striking young woman standing across from him smiled and replied while leaning against the doorframe, "My parents and I are here for the next week and a half. My mother and father are here on business and they ran into your parents while at dinner earlier. They told them that the three of you were here vacationing." She tilted her head, stared at Arnold with her green eyes and inquired, "Why would you vacation here? Don't you live in Hillwood?"

Without thinking, the young man found himself mumbling the words, _"Girl trouble!"_ and upon realizing what he said, hoped that his former girlfriend hadn't heard his slip of the tongue.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked in her silky voice as she gave him a small smile, "If you're having problems _with_ a girl, you know you're better off _asking one_ for a solution!"

"We can do that," Arnold gulped as he ran a hand through his hair. The feelings of panic that came to him upon his former girlfriend's reappearance into his life increased, and he found himself once again truly at a loss for any words. He still didn't feel ready to talk with his parents about what happened, so why would he talk about it with Ayanna? However, she did have a point, since she _was_ a girl, and knew about the inner workings of her gender better than he did. In spite of how drastically different she was from Helga, Arnold knew it wouldn't hurt to hear his ex-girlfriend's perspective on the situation, and he _did_ want to spend some time with her, feeling that he never really got the closure he needed after their break-up.

"Why don't we meet at Central Park tomorrow morning?" Ayanna suggested. "We can take a walk and sort through everything if you want."

"Okay," Arnold nodded. "I'd like to do that… with you."

"Me too, Arnold," she said, touching his shoulder gently before throwing her arms around him. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams Ayanna," Arnold told the young woman while he held her close to his body, not quite wanting to let her go as her sweet aroma infiltrated his senses.

When she pulled away from him at last, she looked at him, her emerald eyes pensive before patting him on his left shoulder, turning around, and walking away from where she once stood across from him. Though Arnold knew that he should've shut the door once Ayanna left his presence, he still held it open and watched as the beautiful brunette walked away from him, her hips swaying and the skirt of her sundress swishing about her shapely tanned legs, finding himself eager to converse with her tomorrow, but at the same time hoping that she would give him advice he could actually _use._ It was only after the young woman became a mere speck in the distance that Arnold shut the door behind him, put on his pajamas, washed his face, brushed his teeth, and crawled into bed that he got what little sleep he could with both Ayanna _and _Helga running through his mind.

After waking up to the sound of the alarm clock on the hotel dresser, the young man found himself tangled in the bed sheets, frustrated to learn that he only got three hours of sleep because neither of his old girlfriends would let him have _any_ peace, even if it only came to him in his dreams. Upon getting out of bed to join his parents for breakfast at Pop's Coffee Shop, the young man took a hot shower that woke him up and drank a steaming mug of hot java coffee provided by the hotel concierge in his hotel room. Once he felt awake, the perplexed teenager made his way through the hotel and the bustling of New York City before finally finding his parents sitting at a table inside the café, where a waiter was asking them for their order. Once Arnold and his parents told the waiter what they wanted to eat and drink, he watched as his mother and father turned to face him, their eyes and facial expressions indicating that the two of them had something they wanted to tell him.

"Son," his father told him, "For the past three years, and since being in Hillwood, you've been constantly serving others. From helping those less fortunate than you, to coaching soccer teams, helping in various English classes, and acting as a support system to Helga…" the older man placed his hand on top of his wife's and said, "Your mother and I have realized that you haven't had much of a chance to take some time for _yourself,_ even in Hillwood."

The teenager nodded while the food arrived, and he found himself reaching for the large tankard of roasted black coffee he ordered, still feeling drowsy from his lack of sleep. Completely absorbed in his drink, the young man nodded at his father, as if indicating for him to continue while he continued to gulp down the large cup of coffee in his hands.

"Your mother and I feel like you deserve to have some time for yourself," his father resumed speaking. "Since you've spent so much time taking care of others… we feel that it's time _you_ were taken care of for a change."

"_What?"_ Arnold asked, his voice confused. He placed the cup of coffee onto the table with a loud thud and added, "You… you want me to take some time off?"

"Well… _yes,_" his mother said. "It would only be for a little while, for somewhere between six months to a year at the most. We know that you've always wanted to see the world, and there's one part of it that you haven't seen yet."

"Europe?"

His father nodded. "It works out perfectly, since you'll be a sophomore in high school. Typically, teenagers your age study World History and learn all about Europe, such as the origins of the various countries, the wars and battles fought there, their government systems, the people, and their culture. You'll really have the opportunity to experience all of this firsthand, and we'll leave in September so that you can continue your classes online without it interfering with your schooling."

Arnold looked down at the large plate of food in front of him and wondered if he should go to Europe with his parents or not. The young man knew he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to go there and see the continent along with all its splendors. After all, he was the son of Miles and Stella Shortman, the famous world travelers, and he had their same adventurous spirits. He never entertained the idea of being separated from them after their reunion in San Lorenzo. Though six years had gone by since he found his mother and father, there were times when he felt as though he _just_ got them back. There was nothing more that he wanted than to know that they were always there, and the thought of journeying all over Europe appealed to him, not just because of what he could see, but because it'd keep him close to his parents.

Nevertheless, the young man wondered about Helga and what she would be like after her son was born and following his adoption into another family. Though the two of them weren't on speaking terms, with Helga having made it clear that Arnold was to stay away from her, the young man still wanted everything to work out for Helga, even if it meant that he was no longer apart of her life. The football headed teenager knew that she had to decide where the future would take her now that she was placing her child for adoption, and felt that she needed some much needed time and moments of solitary reflection to think through how she wanted the rest of her life to play out and what she'd be willing to do in order to make it happen.

The young man was reluctant to go, but she needed it, and he did too.

"Okay," he said to his parents, "Why don't we go to Europe for a year and then come back to Hillwood for my junior and senior years of high school?"

His parents looked at each other quizzically, as though they couldn't believe what they heard, and shocked that their son would be so open to leaving the country after what occurred, and without patching things up with Helga.

His mother gave him a small, but skeptical smile and replied, "If that's what you want, Arnold."

"It is," the young man replied, baffled by his mother's qualm. Standing up from his seat at the café table, he told his parents, "I saw Ayanna last night and I promised that I'd meet her at Central Park this morning."

Turning toward his parents again, Arnold watched as his father touched his wrist gently and said, "I don't want you to get hurt, Son."

"Thanks," Arnold breathed slowly as he wrapped his arms around his parents' shoulders before taking off and giving them a wave from the outside.

Walking along the busy streets and intersections before reaching his destination, the young man found that he felt a million different things all at once. He was remorseful over breaking Helga's trust, disgusted at Sid and incensed that he wasn't being the man he should be, and heartbreak for Helga and all that she had to go through in a difficult pregnancy, only for her to give her child to others. The young man also felt gratitude to his father and mother for always looking out for him, longing to see Helga again, with the truth hurting in knowing that they _both _needed their space, and most of all, he was anxious to see Ayanna once more, and discovered that those feelings grew once he spotted her standing next to a tree, waiting for him. Those thoughts increased as he walked closer to her and finally reached the young woman standing before him, her dark brown hair curled and hanging loosely by her side.

"Hello Arnold," she greeted him as she went in for a hug. "Did you sleep well last night?"

After embracing her in return, the young man shrugged as his eyes surveyed Ayanna's vintage red dress, complete with black high heels and long pearls that hung around her neck.

"Um… I slept fine," he said, shaking his head. Trying not to look at Ayanna's clothing ensemble for too long, he intended, "Why don't you update me on _your_ life, Ayanna? How are you doing?"

"I'm doing fine," she responded while the two began their promenade around the vast park. "My father is still the head of the American Embassy in Laos, and my family and I still live there. I'm going to finish high school in the country, but I want to attend university here in the states…" she took a deep breath and looked away from Arnold before admitting, her voice filled with bitterness, "I've dated other guys, but nothing's come of it."

"Do you like someone else?" Arnold asked. When Ayanna nodded, he said, "Give it time and take things slow…" Chuckling to himself, he said, "You know how dense guys can be."

Ayanna smiled at him shyly and said, "I know _you_ like someone. That's why we're having this conversation in the first place."

The young man nodded and confessed, "I have feelings for Helga, my first girlfriend, and I know she loves me too. I _really_ need your help, Ayanna."

"That's what I'm here for," she said, eyeing him. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well," Arnold began, as the two continued their stroll around the historic park, "I wrote to Helga while I was out of the states for three years without _ever_ hearing from her. I don't even know if she read the letters I sent her way, and because of that, I was under the impression that she didn't like me anymore, but I still wanted to see her upon coming back to Hillwood. When I saw her again after coming back to Hillwood, she was pregnant… she _still_ is, and I figured out on my own that she still loves me even though she never kept in touch with me while I was gone. The father of her son is someone we both grew up with. He's one of my old classmates, and he doesn't want to help her or their child. He hasn't done _anything_ for them."

"Have you been helping her?" the gorgeous adolescent walking next to him inquired.

Arnold nodded and shrugged his shoulders before continuing. "We've been spending time together ever since I came back, and I _really_ like her! Helga's so passionate about those she loves… she's creative, expressive, open, and not afraid to speak her mind. She's placing her son for adoption and is giving him to a couple who'll give him everything she can't…" He paused and sighed, "When she told me who the baby's father was, she asked that I not go after him… I told her I wouldn't!" he cried out, "But I saw him at a party one night… people were talking bad about her, and I…"

"You called him out in front of all those people."

He stopped walking and despaired, "Sid… the father… he publicly humiliated her after I did that."

"Has she stopped talking to you?" Ayanna asked. "She probably told you not to call or go anywhere near her."

Arnold stared at the perceptive young woman next to him, his eyes boggling out of their sockets.

"I'm a _girl,_ Arnold," she laughed, touching his shoulder. "I _know_ these things."

"I haven't said anything to her since it happened," Arnold acknowledged, looking down. "I feel terrible about it, and I know that I really hurt her."

"You're smart to respect Helga's wishes and give her space," Ayanna told him reassuringly as they resumed their walk, "But chances are that she still wants to see and talk to you even though she's said otherwise… _she misses you,_ Arnold."

"Do you really think so?"

She nodded.

"What should I do?" Arnold asked, "It's going to take _a lot more_ than an apology to fix this."

"You need to make sure it means something," she advised. "It has to be sincere and it has to come from your heart. When you do apologize, give it time and don't expect her to talk to you or be forgiving right away. Helga's going through _so much more_ than other girls her age and she needs support more than anything. Offer her that stability, because she's facing _a lot_ of change in her life right now… she needs a constant in her life. Whether you're next to her or far away, it's important that she knows you care about her."

The young man nodded, grateful for the insight of his former girlfriend, asked,

"What about… _romantic_ prospects?"

"That's hard to say, Arnold," Ayanna said. "Once the adoption takes place, Helga will need a lot of time… and her heart will need to heal first before she steps into anything else life changing or places herself in a position where she'll face even more change."

"If I could be the one to help her – "

The young woman next to him stared into his green eyes and counseled, "See how things go first before you do anything else."

The football headed teenager exhaled and spun around toward Ayanna, giving her a hug that led him to lifting her high into the air as she held onto him. Placing her on the ground as they let go of each other, the young man looked at his ex-girlfriend and said, "Thank you for that advice…"

Letting his voice trail off, he looked away for a moment and at the sunlight when he realized what was happening between the two of them. Focusing his gaze back on her, he said, "It took me a long time to get over you."

She nodded and returned, "I had a really hard time losing you… but it's good to know that we're getting _finally_ getting our closure the proper way."

"We're doing it how it should've been done," Arnold said as he leaned in toward her.

She grabbed his shoulders and the two of them came together, her lips tasting of her favorite pastel dinner mints mixed with lemon drops while she received his aroma of Old Spice mixed with strong coffee.

When they parted, the former lovers knew nothing was between them and that the finality they both needed for so long, but never got until now, had been achieved.

"Good luck Arnold," Ayanna said sincerely as she touched his shoulder. "I hope everything works out between you and Helga."

"I wish you the best, Ayanna," he said as she walked away from him, only looking back once to smile at the young man, letting him know that all was well between them.

Before returning to the hotel, Arnold pressed his fingers to his lips and noticed, upon lifting them off his mouth, that a remnant from her lipstick rested on them. Smiling to himself, the young man became intent on returning to Hillwood, knowing that he and Ayanna were good friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

**II**

After returning to Hillwood late that afternoon, Arnold found himself sitting at the kitchen table across from his father following a rowdy dinner of homemade tacos with all the boarders, where the meal became a rambunctious free for all filled with yelling and fighting over all the taco mixings. Grateful for some peace, quiet, and one-on-one time with his father, the young man turned to him for some additional much-needed advice.

"Ayanna helped me out," Arnold told him, "And there's nothing between us anymore. She _did_ say something that really stood out to me, and it's that my apology has to really _mean_ something and come from the heart…" Looking at his father, he said, "I know that I'm going away soon and will be gone for a long time, but I still want to apologize to Helga and let her know that I care about her… is that weird, Dad?"

"No," the older man next to him replied, his voice filled with calm and assurance. "Saying you're sorry is never a bad thing, Arnold."

"What should I do, then?" he inquired earnestly. "I know things between Helga and I won't ever be the same again, but I owe her that, and don't want to leave here without her knowing how I feel."

His father paused, his face and deep jade orbs concentrated in deep thought before he remarked, "I think I have what you need, Son." He got up from his place at the table, patted Arnold on the shoulder, and left, taking the stairs two by two and making quite a bit of noise in the process.

The young man waited patiently for his father as his lovable, but unconventional grandfather sauntered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"Hey Shortman," he said, shooting him a playful wink, "Getting some help for your lady troubles?"

"Hi Grandpa," Arnold said in response as he tried not laugh at his grandfather's amusing, never-ending habit of raiding the refrigerator during all hours of the day.

"Where is that sandwich of mine?" his grandfather queried, scratching his head, "I've been dreaming about it all day! I swear if Oskar took it – "

"We _just_ had tacos for dinner, Grandpa!"

"If you call _that_ food," he muttered, shutting the refrigerator closed. Taking a seat next to Arnold, he queried, "So Shortman, what advice can I bestow upon you today?"

The young man opened his mouth, trying to formulate some sort of an answer when his father returned to his place at the kitchen table and placed a burgundy and gold stationery box between them. Looking to his father, and then to his father's father, whose mouth was ajar, with his dark brown eyes overlarge as he stared at it in shock, he looked to his father again and waited for some guidance.

"I found this at an old pawnshop when I was nine-years-old," his father told him, pushing the box toward Arnold. "I remember being drawn toward the box and feeling as though I'd seen it somewhere before, even though I didn't know where. It's been very useful to me over the years, and I've used the stationery, cards, and pen inside of it to write numerous notes and letters. I've had to replace the ink on several occasions, but this stationery box has severed me well over the years and I believe you're at the age now where it should be yours."

Arnold took the box and opened it, first picking up the aged red ballpoint pen that was still in amazingly good condition. He twisted it around in his fingers, surveying it with wonder before setting it aside and picking up the heavy beige parchment and finding the vintage greeting cards at the bottom, decorated with red, green, yellow, pink, and blue detailed flower doilies set against a beige background with envelopes to match them.

"Helga loves reading and writing, so I felt that you should write her a letter. I think she would like the card," his father told him.

The young man nodded, closing the box, and said, "This really puts things into perspective… thanks, Dad."

"You'll do the right thing," his father reassured him as he leaned over and hugged his son, "You always do."

Feeling the sudden need to get started, Arnold bid goodnight to his father and grandfather, and went upstairs to his bedroom, inspecting the old stationery box as he did so. Upon walking into his new age room, he sat on his bed, got out a card, envelope, and the pen, but didn't know what to write. Sitting there with the necessary tools in front of him as the music of Nat King Cole playing on MJAZZ made its way throughout the bedroom, Arnold once again found himself at a complete loss for words.

Looking up from the card in front of him, he turned his neck and found his eyes focusing on the little pink book on the very top shelf where he kept his stereo set.

Sliding off of his bed, Arnold reached for the small journal, opened the first page, and began reading. The books were filled with poems written in cursive, along with doodles of hearts, his likeness, and a particularly hilarious, sloppily drawn picture of Ruth McDougal with a pig's snout. Because Arnold hadn't looked at the book since the fourth grade, when he attempted, and failed, to learn the owner's identity, he was shocked to find a large, thick chunk of his blonde hair taped to a page with a band-aid, along with old pieces of gum he chewed, with the caption "Gum Of My Beloved" written in the same cursive above it. The young man read through the journal several times, still baffled by who wrote the poems, collected his gum and hair, and saved them. Eyeing his opened closet door, he put the book down onto his bed next to the stationery box and felt his feet taking him into his closet, whereupon he reached for the solitary black shoebox he kept away from all the others.

Opening the shoebox once he was on his bed again, he held up the red, still shining high-heeled shoe, which was the only memento of his date with Cecile. During his days in Hillwood, he often took the shoe from its box, examining it, and wondering about his former French pen pal and what she was up to. The young man often despaired that he would never see her again, and saddened that she never bothered to keep in touch with him. Though the young man got his desired closure with Ayanna, and didn't expect to receive it from Helga after what happened, it always frustrated him that he never got that with Cecile. Arnold felt that he was forever doomed to wonder about Cecile and who she became, knowing that even though he _was_ capable of loving other women, that he would still think of her and would do so for the rest of his days, no matter what other events transpired in his life.

"_Au revoir, Arnold…"_

Likewise, Arnold never learned who wrote the poems in the little pink book he kept at his side. Picking up the book and reading through it again, the thought crossed his mind for a single, fleeting moment that the author of the numerous soliloquies to him was Helga. After all, she loved reading and writing, and was a true romantic even though she often hid that part of herself from the world.

Still holding the book in his hand, he picked up Cecile's red shoe and thought of his old letter writing friend and the way her long, glossy blonde hair fell just slightly into her azure eyes as she bid him farewell in the pink striped dress that made her body look more grown up that it really was.

Exhaling slowly, the young man turned his attention toward the pink book, his thoughts turning from Cecile to the present day and the moment she saw Helga at the Fourth of July parade in front of City Hall. He recalled her golden hair that fell to her waist in those luscious waves he wanted to get lost in, and how the red and white striped shirt she wore enhanced the premature curves of her body and his longing to run his hands over them…

Gazing at the red shoe and the pink book he held in his lap, the young man couldn't believe the truth or what his heart was telling him at first until he found himself picking up the pen and card, whereupon he began writing his apology to Helga, knowing for the first time who she truly was.

Helga, Cecile, and the author of the little pink book were one and the same.

**III**

Earlier, Helga Pataki felt that July twenty-sixth couldn't come fast enough, but once the actual date arrived, she was nervous and panicky. She had no idea what to expect upon meeting Kevin and Christine and wanted nothing but the initial meeting to go well. Praying that her family wouldn't cause a scene during the appointment like they had in times past, she crawled out of bed and walked slowly toward her closet, refusing to look at the crib and changing table that still stood across from her bed, knowing that she would have to take it down at some point. Turning on the light inside of her closet as she glanced mournfully at her shrine to Arnold, along with the letters he wrote to her and the ones she never bothered to send, the young woman took the pink sundress and white, short-sleeved, satin shrug Olga bought for her to wear when she met Kevin and Christine, and began putting on her new outfit, having showered the night before. Stepping out of her closet after putting on the pair of white flats Olga bought to go with the outfit, she walked toward their desk and pulled out several photographs of her with Sid before their sexual encounter, including many black and white Photobooth pictures the two of them took at Hillwood Pier. As she looked at the photographs, her mind swam with a million different questions.

What would Kevin and Christine think of her? What would they say to her son when he asked them about his birthparents? What would they think of Sid? Picking up the photographs of she and Sid, the young woman found herself sorting through several colored shots of the two of them together. There were pictures of them together at the Cheese Festival, shots of Sid covered in mud after winning the annual frog catching contest, and memories forever caught on film of the former best friends playing catch at Gerald Field, exploring the Zoological Gardens, hanging out at Skate Time, acting like total clowns as they posed elaborately in front of the Civic Opera House, and moments of simplicity when the two were together either at each other's houses or outside of Hillwood High School as they waited for the bus to come for them. Helga noticed that many of these pictures were in sepia tone, or made to look like colored antique photographs from when Sid experimented with Photoshop and other photo editing software. Additionally, there were several colored shots of the two of them together that he took himself, not only proving his photography expertise but also his talent in the art of self-snapshots. As her blue eyes absorbed the photographs she held in her hand, Helga realized that she had no idea what to tell Kevin and Christine about the father of her child. The young woman planned on taking the photographs with her to show them, but began having second thoughts when she flipped through them again, realizing that several of the Photobooth pictures showed the two of them making silly faces at the camera, with one of the shots showing Sid's attempt at kissing her on the cheek, but getting her hand instead as she blocked her face, smiling widely at the camera.

Helga was sure that Kevin and Christine would be unimpressed with their goofiness, but elected to bring all the photographs, because they deserved to know everything about Sid. The young woman knew her son did as well, and understood that the time would come when he would ask Kevin and Christine about his birthparents. She didn't want to keep the truth from him or hide it from his adoptive mother and father. Helga was aware of how important it was that she be honest with Kevin, Christine, and her son. She knew there was the possibility that he would resemble Sid physically and even inherit his personality traits. Though Helga hoped and prayed that the child would take after her instead, the young woman knew she couldn't take any chances and keep such vital information away from her baby and the people she trusted to raise him.

Upon stacking the photographs together neatly and looking way from them, no longer wanting to look at Sid's face, her eyes rested on the calendar in front of her, which laid haphazardly on her desk. Flipping the almanac to the month of August while she rested the other hand on her stomach, she looked down at the thirty-first, which was circled in bright red, and covered with various colored stars all around the border and inside of the squared date. At Helga's last appointment with Doctor Warner, he decided that he would have her labor induced on her due date if the baby didn't come earlier. The date was approaching fast, and Helga was scared knowing that her son could come at any time. The young woman hoped that her son wouldn't come earlier, because it meant that the sooner he came, the sooner she would have to say goodbye. Though she couldn't stop the inevitable from happening, she wanted to put it off, dreading what would happen post-adoption and not knowing what the future held for her after the fact.

Taking a deep, shaky breath as she waddled toward the window to open the curtains and let the sunlight spill throughout her room, she turned around to make her bed only to find her older sister standing across from her. Olga's hair was cut short again in its signature style and pulled back with a navy blue headband. She flaunted a short, slinky, navy blue dress accented with a skinny white belt, white bordering on the collar and sleeves, and four buttons rested squarely on the center of her dress, resembling a pea coat. On her feet she wore bright red pumps, and Helga knew what her clothing ensemble, complete with a gigantic smile upon her face meant.

"Olga, you don't need to do this," she mumbled as she finished making her bed.

"But I _want_ to!" Olga exclaimed, surveying her with large blue eyes. "You deserve to look your _very best_ for when you meet your son's new parents for the first time!" Olga continued looking at her for what seemed like forever. Upon facing Helga again, she put her hands together and proposed, "Hop in the shower, and I'll get everything ready!"

"I showered last night!" Helga grumbled as she folded her arms.

However, her well-meaning sister only smiled as she led Helga toward the bathroom and closed the door behind her once she ensured that the young woman was inside. Figuring that there was no use putting up a fight, the pregnant teenager hung her clothes from the door hook after taking them off and hopped into the shower, scrubbing her swollen body and washing her hair as she let the hot water and steam overwhelm her entire being. Ironically, toward the end of the shower, Helga found that she actually liked it, and wished she could prolong the time, but knew she couldn't. After stepping out of the shower, brushing her teeth, wrapping her body in a bathrobe, and securing her dripping, wet hair with a towel, the young woman grabbed her clothes off the hook and walked into Olga's room, where she had a myriad of hair and beauty products, make-up, and nail polish organized all along her large vanity.

Helga sat at the vanity and watched as Olga combed through her blonde locks smoothly and with the utmost care before dousing it with heat protecting spray and a hair smoothing balm. The young woman could barely hear the sound from the movie _Casablanca_ that played from her older sister's television set behind them as she blow dried her hair and let it fall into its natural, defined waves. Soon, the young woman found that she could hear the reconciliation of Rick Blaine and Ilsa Lund, the two conflicted lovers once the blow dryer was turned off and as Olga began experimenting with her hair before deciding to straighten it. She looked at her pale reflection in the mirror with a solemn expression on her face as her older sister finished doing her hair and began painting her nails. Helga continued staring at herself as she heard the dialogue from the famous film behind her, but didn't bother to listen.

It wasn't until the expectant young woman heard someone knocking on the front door from the downstairs that she averted her face away from the mirror and toward the front entryway, having a perfect view of it from her seat at Olga's vanity. She watched as her father Bob, wearing a pair of ironed black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a green tie, his hair combed neatly, answered the door and found himself facing Arnold Shortman.

Helga felt a wrenching pain her chest as she watched the two of them stare at each other momentarily, not knowing what would come of their discussion.

"You haven't been coming by lately," Bob observed as he noticed the package wrapped in red and gold paper, tied with a green ribbon that Arnold held in his hands.

"I know," Arnold sighed, his voice filled with remorse. "Is Helga home, Sir?"

"She is, but we're heading out in a few minutes," Bob responded, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "We're meeting with the adoptive couple Helga chose a while back…"

"Oh!" Arnold exclaimed, still holding out the package for him to take, "I hope the meeting goes well!"

Noticing that the older man still stared at him, Arnold asked, indicating to the parcel he held out in front of him, "Will you make sure that Helga gets this? It's important."

Watching as Bob took the present from Arnold's grasp, Helga couldn't help but wonder what was inside the package, and why it was so important that she receive it. Though Helga told Arnold not to come by after what happened earlier in the month, she had no intention of stopping him as he interacted with her father. Doctor Bliss was right. She _missed_ Arnold greatly and only wanted him by her side again, but had no idea how to initiate it. To her despair, the football headed teenager left Hillwood after what happened, and hadn't made the effort to call or speak with her during that time. Even though Helga knew that he was respecting her wishes, she wished she hadn't, because she missed him. The young woman knew her feelings on the situation and for Arnold were a complete paradox, but the irony of the situation didn't stop her from loving him still.

"I hope the meeting goes well, Mr. Pataki," Arnold said once he was sure that the package was in the older man's grasp. Walking down the steps slowly, he said, "Tell Helga hello for me."

Looking at the exchange that occurred below the young woman with tears in her eyes, she watched as Bob gazed at the brightly colored present in his hands and motioned for Arnold to wait.

"You've been a good friend to my daughter over the years," Bob choked out, his voice thick and heavy with emotion, "_Especially now,_ when she needed you the most.

"Thank you for being there for her, Arnold."

**IV**

Helga sat in Doctor Bliss' office nervously, her hands resting on her stomach as she listened to the clock tick loudly above her. Her father held hands with her mother, dressed in a conservative navy business suit, her hair pulled back, and looking polished and poised as a way to hide the anxiety she felt. Olga's azure eyes kept darting toward the two additional chairs set up next to the purple couch Helga sat on, which were for Kevin and Christine. The young woman turned her attention toward Doctor Bliss, grateful that she allowed for her office to be used as the meeting grounds for when she met Kevin and Christine for the first time, and gave her a small smile.

A tentative knock on the door from the outside brought in Rosemary, Helga's sweet and thoughtful adoption agent. She instantly walked toward the young woman and gave her a hug as she sat down next to her. Smoothing Helga's long blonde hair, she said, "You look beautiful."

"Thank you," she replied. Turning toward her family, as Rosemary and Doctor Bliss were already acquainted, she said, indicating to them, "These are my parents, Bob and Miriam, and my older sister, Olga. They've been looking forward to meeting Kevin and Christine."

Bob snorted as Rosemary nodded and said, turning back to Helga, 'They're very eager to meet you, and are just waiting outside. Are your ready for this?"

The young woman nodded.

"I'll bring them in," Rosemary said after giving Helga another hug.

The moment of waiting, from the time Rosemary left the room to get Kevin and Christine, to when Helga found herself facing them from where she sat, felt like an eternity. When she saw them in person, holding hands and dressed impeccably, the young woman realized that _these_ were the people whose faces she spent hours upon hours looking at, scrutinizing every detail, memorizing their story, and knowing fully well of their desire to adopt a child. These people were indeed her son's parents, in both appearance as well as mannerisms. Christine looked beautiful and sophisticated in a black pencil skirt, white blouse, and royal purple sweater whose sleeves were at mid-arm length. Black heels and diamond earrings completed her overall look while Kevin donned khaki slacks with dress shoes, a white shirt, black sports coat, and a matching tie. Helga instantly felt drawn to them as she got up from her seat and walked slowly towards them, whereupon Christine enveloped her in a hug. After she released the young woman, she smiled at her through tears of gratitude.

"You must be Helga," she breathed, wrapping her arms around her husband. "I'm Christine, and this is my husband, Kevin."

"Hi," she said slowly, turning to face the man standing across from her, who stared at her with his blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses.

"It's good to finally meet you at last, Helga," he said, also giving her a hug. "We're so grateful that you're doing this for us."

Helga smiled, trying to maintain her composure, and motioned for the two of them to sit in the chairs next to the purple couch before taking her seat again. After making all the necessary introductions, which included introducing them to Doctor Bliss, she turned her attention on them, but had no idea what to say. She felt her body become tense when Bob began speaking, and she prayed that he wouldn't say anything stupid.

"I've been reading through your adoption profile," he told Kevin and Christine, holding it out to them. "This sounds like really impressive work you're doing, traveling all over the world with UNICEF, giving children health care, and teaching them how to read…" he paused, scratched his head, and asked, "Would you… take him with you?"

Kevin and Christine, who held hands, looked at each other before turning their attention toward Helga's father again.

"We plan on taking him when he's old enough," Kevin replied as he squeezed Christine's hand with tenderness. "Until then, we won't be going on any additional volunteer trips with UNICEF, but when we do, we'll only go during the summer months so that he won't miss any school. We live in southern California, close to Christine's family, and that's where we'll raise him."

Bob nodded and added, eyeing Christine, "I'm glad to know that he'll… that he'll grow up close to your family."

"My parents are really excited," Christine said, smiling. Turning toward Helga, she beamed at her and suggested, "Why don't you tell Kevin and I about yourself? We've been looking forward to this day and to getting to know you better."

Letting her hands rest on her enlarged abdomen and taking a deep breath, she said, "I'm due on August thirty-first." Laughing quietly to herself, she continued, trying to keep her voice even, "I'm fifteen years old and I'll be a sophomore in high school this coming September. I love to read and write."

"Us too," Kevin said, grinning at her. "Who are some of your favorite authors?"

"Well," Helga said, her mind instantly turning to Arnold and his unexpected arrival at her house earlier that day, "A good friend of mine introduced me to Dave Eggers. I really like his work, and I love reading his literary journal. However, I also like Jane Austen, Anthony Trollope, and most classic literature."

"Dave Eggers is a _great_ man," Christine remarked. "Kevin and I have worked with him during our trips to Africa, and like you, we love how thought provoking his work is."

The young woman felt slightly more at ease with Kevin and Christine. She asked them, "Will you read to him?"

Christine's face and deep green eyes instantly softened as she looked at Helga and placed a hand onto her shoulder. "Of course we will," she said, attempting to keep her voice from trembling. "We'll read to him every night before he goes to bed and whenever he wants us to. Kevin and I will introduce him to all the great authors and classic works of literature. We want him to be well-read… like you."

Helga buried her face in her hands, not wanting her emotions to get the best of her. She exhaled slowly and looked up once again after feeling that she was now calm enough to move forward. Turing to face Rosemary, and then Kevin and Christine, she proposed, "We should set the terms for the adoption contract," feeling that her mind needed to be focused elsewhere and not on a subject that would bring her to tears all over again.

Rosemary nodded, opened her large binder, and flipped the pages inside to Kevin and Christine's file. After looking it over, she inquired, "Does anyone here have any questions or concerns about what we will discuss in finalizing the contract?"

"Will this be an open adoption?" Bob asked from where he sat, staring at Rosemary with a steely glint in his blue eyes. "Will I get to see my grandchild at all?"

"That is up to Helga, Kevin, and Christine to decide," Doctor Bliss said firmly. "Helga may ask for your guidance concerning the matter, but you should not force her to do anything she isn't comfortable with."

"We're willing to negotiate an open adoption," Kevin informed the group. "We wouldn't mind having Helga for annual visits, and we'd be willing to come up here if we needed to. We're also open to letting her become acquainted with our families… within reason."

"_Reason?"_ barked Bob from where he sat across from them, _"What do you_ _**mean,**_ _reason?"_

Christine took a deep breath and said, "Before any visits are to take place, we would make prior arrangements and set some ground rules. For example, Kevin and I would prefer to the meetings to take place in a public setting instead of our homes, and we would prefer to keep all other contact within the limits of e-mail and letters through the adoption agency. Of course, we'd send Helga pictures and updates – "

Bob rolled his eyes and said, "That is _ridiculous!_ When you said 'open adoption', I didn't think you'd mean putting restrictions on how much I'm allowed to contact my own flesh and blood and through what means I'm actually _allowed_ to _communicate_ with him!"

An unsettling silence filled the room as Kevin and Christine's grasp on each other's hands became tighter, with Kevin putting his other arm around Christine as a sign of comfort. Olga and Miriam sat in their chairs, shocked, as Rosemary and Doctor Bliss looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. Bob seemed to become angrier by the minute as the color began rising in his face, his glare becoming icier by the minute, and his mouth a thin, straight line.

Helga, keeping on hand on her stomach, relying on her son's gentle kicks and serene movements from within to help her remain calm, stood up, faced her father, and said, _**"No."**_

Turning to Rosemary and to Doctor Bliss, she said, "I don't want a _completely _open adoption."

"Why?" Olga asked, staring at Helga with curiosity swimming in her cobalt pools. "Don't you want to keep in touch with your baby?"

"I have to think about what's best for _him,_" she said, looking at everyone in the room. "I also have to take what's in _Kevin and Christine's_ best interests as well."

Doctor Bliss looked at Helga and prompted, "What do you think that is?"

"He deserves to have a life separate from mine," she said, "And the opportunity to grow up and form his _own_ identity without my interference. That's what adoption _means,_ and I truly believe that you," she indicated to Kevin and Christine, "Are the ones meant to raise him. That's how it's supposed to be."

Looking up after taking several pages of notes, Rosemary queried, "What's your opinion on the matter, Helga?"

Resuming her place next to Kevin and Christine, she said, "I think a semi-open adoption is best for all parties involved… I _do_ want to know how he's doing and I'd like to send him Christmas and birthday presents if you'll let me," she said, looking at Kevin at Christine. "He deserves to have his own life, and I know that if we had an open adoption, that it wouldn't stop me from interfering in his life when I shouldn't be. I don't want that to happen."

"Do you want to exchange last names with Kevin and Christine?" Rosemary questioned.

The young woman shook her head.

"_Helga, this is_ _**absurd!**__"_ Bob exclaimed, wanting to stand up, with only his wife's vice-like grip on his shoulder keeping him from doing so. "I can't believe you're saying that you don't want to know anything of your son's whereabouts! Do you want us to know _nothing_ of what he becomes?" he demanded, fuming at her.

"_If I knew his last name, then I'd have free reign to look for him, Kevin, and Christine and meddle with their lives. That isn't_ _**fair**_ _to them."_

Bob leaned back in his seat and exhaled slowly. Looking at his daughter, he admitted, "You're right."

Rosemary looked at Helga's family and then turned to her, Kevin and Christine.

"Oftentimes, parties that negotiate semi-open adoptions choose to remain in contact with each other," she informed them. "We'll have to set some boundaries, but I'm confident that we can reach an agreement that will satisfy both parties." Turning back to her family, she asked them, "Will that be okay?"

Miriam looked at Rosemary as she put her hand back onto Bob's shoulder and said, unyielding, "As a family, we'll support Helga in whatever she wants to do concerning this."

The adoption agent nodded and said, facing Helga, "It sounds like you, Kevin, and Christine are free to set the terms of the adoption agreement according to what the three of you feel to be in your best interests." She started a new page of notes and nodded for the three of them to begin.

Kevin, who still kept his arm around Christine, offered, "We can send you biannual updates if you wish, Helga. We'll send you pictures and write letters letting you know how he's doing."

Helga smiled and said, "I would like that. Very much."

"When would you like for us to send you the updates?" Christine inquired earnestly while she looked at Helga. "Kevin and I are open to sending them whenever you want us to."

The young woman thought deeply about Christine's question before responding, "During my two favorite times of the year – June, just when school gets out for the summer, and December, for Christmas."

She turned to Rosemary, who continued taking notes. The adoption agent notified Helga, "Kevin and Christine will send you the updates through the agency. Likewise, that will be where you'll send whatever gifts or letters you wish to send their way. Is that all right?"

"Yes," the young woman replied as she turned to Doctor Bliss.

The psychologist told her, "Since you're on the subject Helga, you should probably determine if you want to know Kevin and Christine's last name."

"Not until he comes of age," Helga decided. She hesitated before adding, "That also… that also goes for meeting him. I know you're open to letting me meet him and I – I can't thank you enough for that," she told Kevin and Christine as her voice started breaking, "But I – I… I can't take that risk," she said, letting the tears fall down her cheeks. _"__**He**_ _has to be the one who_ _**wants to meet me.**__"_

Christine enveloped Helga into her arms and held her as she cried over what she assumed would be the least emotional part of the initial appointment. Helga hugged Christine back, not only grateful for her support, but also felt blessed to know that her son would be in good hands.

When Christine released her from the hug, Rosemary said to Helga, looking over her notes, "I'll have this typed up and present each of you with a copy of the contract to sign at the official hand-off." After finalizing the terms of the contract with Helga, her family, and Kevin and Christine, she looked at the young woman and asked, "Will the conditions of this contract apply to the father as well?"

Helga stiffened, knowing that the moment of truth had arrived at last. Taking a nervous gulp, she hesitated before grabbing the small pink box that housed the photographs of she and Sid on the coffee table across from her. Not knowing what to expect, she leaned her pregnant body over, picked up the box, and held it out for her son's parents to take. Kevin looked at Christine, who nodded, motioning for him to take the box from Helga's grasp, which he did after a few moments of indecisiveness.

"May… may I open this?" Kevin asked, looking at Helga.

The young woman nodded, and said, "That box contains pictures of me with the father inside of it." She watched as Kevin opened the box and took out the numerous pictures, which he and Christine looked at together, the expressions on their faces unreadable as they sorted through the photographs.

"I don't like talking about him," she confessed, "But I feel that it's important you know about him, as he constitutes half of… _your_ son's genetic make-up."

"You mean _**our**_ son," Christine said, looking up. "He'll always be yours, Helga."

The young woman shrugged, and began, "His name is Sid, and the two of us grew up together. From preschool and onwards, we always had class together. When we were younger, the two of us would get together with our other classmates and play baseball. Sometimes, we'd all hang out and play cards or read comic books in the community tree house. Sid was always interesting to be around. He was always there to introduce our classmate Gerald before he told an urban legend. He was paranoid and obsessive about the littlest things, and it made for some pretty good laughs. He's won the frog catching contest at the City Lake for as long as I can remember, and he _loves_ pancakes and halibut drenched with maple syrup."

Chuckling to herself after seeing Kevin and Christine grimace, she resumed speaking.

"Even though I grew up with Sid, the two of us didn't exactly become friends until middle school, when we were _always_ assigned to work on group projects together. Over time, we started hanging out, and we became friends… we'd try to persuade each other into liking our respective interests, and it became an inside joke between us. Sid often tried to convince me into listening to The Beatles, but I never did… at the same time, I could never get him to read books by Stephen King." Taking a deep breath, Helga remarked, "Sid was different, but he was close friend of mine, and sometimes I felt that he knew me best. I always knew that he liked me as more than a friend even when I didn't return the sentiment."

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath before telling Kevin and Christine more about Sid, not knowing how they would react. She was about to tell them about how the little boy growing inside Helga's womb, the child they would raise, came to be, and could do nothing but pray that they wouldn't look down on her for it.

"We were at a party the Friday before Thanksgiving break when it happened," she admitted. "The party itself was pretty wild, and the next thing I knew, Sid and I found ourselves making out and sneaking into one of the guests bedrooms of the house. We kept kissing… and he told me that he wanted more.

"I… I was hesitant at first, because I – I was in love with somebody else, and I still do love that person. At the time however, he was dating another girl… someone who surely was _better_ than me, _smarter_ than me, and _prettier_ than me. When Sid told me that he was interested in taking our relationship to the next level, I did the one thing I _never_ should have done, and I settled." Helga shook her head and said, "I always regretted having sex with Sid and giving myself to a person I never truly loved. When I told him that we moved too fast, he suspected that I wished I had never went through with it, and things became different between us.

"I remember the day I told Sid. When I informed him that I was pregnant, he became angry with me." Placing her hands on her stomach, she choked back a sob that was about to erupt from her throat and said, her voice wobbling, "Sid wanted me to get rid of him, but I couldn't do it. When I went in for the ultrasound and heard his heartbeat, I realized that I couldn't get rid of _my child._ He accused me of breaking his heart and leading him along... and I _did_ do those things, but he still walked out on us and refused to be involved."

The pregnant teenager brought her hands to her face, looked down and cried as her body shook visibly to those watching her. She knew that telling Kevin and Christine the truth was necessary and that it needed to happen, but it still embarrassed her, and she hoped that they wouldn't think any less of her now that the two of them knew the entire story. As she continued sobbing, she felt people all around her being, providing her with hugs, comfort, and strength.

She averted her gaze upward and saw that it was Kevin and Christine.

"Sid doesn't know what he's missing out on," Kevin reassured the young woman as he helped her up. "You are a beautiful, compassionate, unselfish, and well-spoken young woman, and Christine and I will _never_ be able to thank you enough for what you're doing for us." He placed a hand onto her shoulder as a sign of consolation before hugging her again.

With tears in her emerald orbs, Christine said, "For so long, Kevin and I dreamed of starting our family. We wanted children _so badly,_ and were devastated to learn that we couldn't give that to each other." Wiping her eyes, she finished, "We're so grateful to you and for this gift you're giving us… we _do_ love you for it, Helga, and we always will."

The kindhearted woman embraced Helga, who watched as her family, Doctor Bliss, and Rosemary were moved by the scene in front of them and all grabbed tissues from various parts of the office and began wiping their eyes with them. To the young woman's astonishment, even her father was crying.

After Christine released her, Helga looked at her son's new parents. The young woman was confident that she made the right choice. Her fears and worries were completely abolished, and she knew that there was no reason to be afraid. Possessing the knowledge that Kevin and Christine would love her baby with every fiber of their being and give him the greatest life imaginable, she took each of their hands and placed them onto her large stomach, watching as their eyes widened in awe and as they smiled broadly upon feeling the child they would adopt, name, and nurture at their sides, move within the confines of her womb.

_"Everything's going to work out, Helga. Just remember what you're doing and_ _**why**_ _you're doing it. You're going to bless so many lives through this decision you've made to place your son with Kevin and Christine. All will be well, Helga. Have faith!"_

Upon realizing that she was Kevin and Christine's source of joy as Arnold's words of encouragement ran throughout her mind, the young woman let her hands rest on top of their own, knowing that she truly was apart of their family. She still missed Arnold with all that she possessed, and was determined to make things right with him again. But at the moment, she couldn't help but reflect on how true his words to her actually were.

"_All is well,"_ she thought. _"All is well."_

**V**

That evening, long after Helga and her family returned home from meeting Kevin and Christine, she changed into her pajamas, which consisted of swishy, Capri pajama pants and yet another shirt that was snug against her abdomen and didn't quite fit her right. The young woman found herself kneeling across from Olga with her stomach resting on her upper thighs as the two sisters took down the crib and changing table before sorting through the various blankets, clothes, diapers, toys, and toiletries before determining what boxes they went into. Helga had decided to package what little material possessions she accumulated for her son and send them to Kevin and Christine, knowing that she no longer needed them.

As Olga repackaged the crib and changing table, Helga wrote the couple a brief note that she would send with the packages through the adoption agency, beginning what she knew would be the first of several correspondences between them.

_Dear Kevin and Christine,_

_Before I chose to place the baby for adoption, I was adamant on keeping him because I wanted to be loved unconditionally, and felt that he could provide that. In addition, my parents allowed me to keep our son, and my father even hired a nanny to take care of him while I finished my education. I thought it was the ideal situation because I would still have a roof over my head and have extra support while he could still be mine._

_Over time, however, the reality of my predicament hit me really hard, as did being a pregnant teenager, and carrying, loving, and protecting the child that's growing inside of me. It has really changed my perception on life. I've come to realize that I'm not in the position to be a good parent right now and am incapable of providing the baby with everything he stands in need of._

_It was a hard lesson to learn, but I've realized that having the material needs to provide for someone doesn't make true love. That is why I'm entrusting him to you, because even though I love our little boy, I can't give him what you can._

_During the earlier months of my pregnancy, my older sister, Olga bought me some things for the baby. I feel that since I'm giving him to the two of you, that these things will prove to be of more use to you than they will be to me. It is my hope that you will find them to be of good use._

_Thank you for everything you're doing for him._

_Love,_

_~Helga_

_P.S.: You can change the song on the mobile if you want to. Ideally, it would play "Walk This Way" by Aerosmith, but Olga insisted on the Rats song after being cast in the Broadway revival. Either way, I'm sure that the both of you have better taste in music than she does._

When the young woman finished the letter at her desk, she placed it inside an envelope, stamped it, and addressed the sachet to the adoption agency, where they would then forward it to Kevin and Christine's home address, along with the packages. Because Helga elected not to know the last name of her son's parents, she was required to write the identifying number Rosemary assigned to her on both the letter and packages. This would allow the agency to match the number to Kevin and Christine, who were also provided with the same number she was, and would use when sending Helga the biannual updates that would begin coming to her after her baby was born. This would be their way of communicating for the next eighteen years, and though it was unordinary, Helga knew it was for the best.

Turning around after getting up from her chair at the desk, the young woman was astounded to find that the crib and changing table were gone. Four large brown boxes stood in their place, with her older sister kneeling to the left of them, her hands to her chest, and facial expression serious.

"You know how to pack things up fast!" Helga said, impressed, as she waddled over and sat across from the boxes, her legs sprawled out in front of her while she kept a hand on her ever-expanding girth. Looking at Olga, she saw that her sibling was crying tears of silence as she tried to keep it together.

Staring at the boxes again, and then back at Olga, the young woman realized that this adoption affected other people aside from her. It occurred to Helga that Olga was the one to buy and set up everything that she just spent time packaging up to send away to people she only met once. Her older sister looked forward to being an aunt and having the opportunity to spoil her little nephew, only to be told that she would only know of him through pictures, letters, and a _possible_ meeting that wouldn't take place until he turned eighteen.

Upon taking a deep breath, Helga looked at her sister and said, her voice quiet, "I'm sorry, Olga."

However, Olga only stared at Helga through her tears before getting up and joining her. Sitting cross-legged, she hugged her closely and said, "You're doing the right thing, Baby Sister."

Helga nodded as she turned her attention away from the boxes across from her and found herself looking toward her opened bedroom door. She saw her father standing in the entrance, holding the package Arnold dropped off earlier. He seemed hesitant, like he didn't know whether or not he could come in, or just leave the package for Helga and leave.

Bob faltered before speaking.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Yes," Helga replied. She released herself from Olga's grasp and watched while Bob sat down next to her, placing the neatly wrapped package in the center of where the three of them sat together. An uncomfortable silence filled the air around them before the older man cleared his throat and began speaking again, his voice low and uneven.

"I… I like Kevin and Christine," he said, turning to face his youngest daughter, his own expression a complicated palette of emotion. "You've chosen good people to be his parents. I… I have no doubt that they'll be good for… that they'll be good for Paul," he finished rapidly, seemingly afraid that if he spoke any slower, that his feelings would get the best of him. Bob had always been a man afraid to cry, and after doing so during the meeting with Kevin and Christine, he was determined not to do anymore of it. Taking a deep breath, he asked Helga, "Will you still name him that?"

"He isn't mine to name," Helga responded, shaking her head.

"You know Helga," he acknowledged, "When you first told me that you were pregnant, it really threw me for a loop… you've always been the one who has never ceased to surprise me… coming home with a giant monitor lizard, giving away those one of a kind Nancy Spumoni snow boots your mother waited hours in line for, becoming friends with that Sid character…"

After taking a deep, shaky breath, he said, "I never thought you'd tell me that you were going to be a mother. I – I _suspected_ it," he admitted, his voice filled with shame. "I knew _something_ was up when you stopped talking to Sid and he no longer came by to see you. You were always exhausted and stressed out, just like your mother was when she was pregnant… I remember when I saw you come down the stairs for breakfast one morning, and I _swore_ I saw the beginnings of a small bump underneath your shirt when you first started showing. I dismissed it, because I didn't want it to be true, and I denied that you could find yourself in such a vulnerable position… when you told me that you actually _were_ expecting a child…"

"_All that time,"_ Helga whispered, her voice awestruck, _"You knew before I did."_

"It was still a shock," Bob said, eyeing her, "But over time, I warmed up to the idea of becoming a grandfather, all while wanting to come after the monster who did that to you. I never wanted to admit it, but when I learned that you were having a boy, I began looking forward to having a grandson. I was excited to show him the ropes of running the beeper empire and I was excited about _finally_ having a boy in the family…" his voice trailed off and he looked away for a moment before staring at Helga again. "When you told me that you were going to pursue adoption, it really threw me back… just when I was adjusting to the idea of being a grandfather and happy over having a grandson, you told us that you already chose a couple to raise him. I – I thought it could work out if the adoption was more open, and I fought it because I… I didn't want to lose him."

He closed his blue eyes and took several deep breaths before he heaved slowly and said, placing a hand onto Helga's shoulder, "This is what you're supposed to be doing, Helga… even though it's far from what _I_ want, I know that this adoption is the best thing for him. I'm sorry that I didn't say anything when I first learned you were pregnant… I should have, because you _needed_ someone to be there for you, and I regret that I didn't do that." Enveloping her into a hug, he said, his voice cracking, "I hope you can forgive me for what I've done over the years."

Helga, who now felt salty tears pricking at her own blue eyes, took a deep breath and said, "It'll take some time, _Dad_… but I can do that."

The older man nodded and reached for the package in front of them. Handing it to her, he said, "Your friend Arnold dropped this by for you."

The expectant teenager nodded, holding the neatly wrapped present in her hands with an awed sort of reverence before she untied the ribbon and gently tore off the paper. Making sure the beautiful casing would still be salvageable once it came off the actual box, she lifted the lid off of the case, and her breath caught in her throat as she saw an envelope with her name written on it. Wanting her curiosity squelched, but still scared of what the letter would say, she had to wait for a few moments before she could gather the courage to open the sachet. Taking the envelope with trembling hands, she saw that it was colored with vintage red, yellow, green, and blue detailed flowers. After opening it slowly all whilst taking slow, deep breaths, she found herself holding a card decorated with the same flower doilies that seemed to be made during the Second World War era.

She shut her eyes and turned away from the card before she could open it and read the message inside, which was written in deep red ink.

_Dear Helga,_

_I'm sorry._

_I really don't know what else I can say concerning the matter. I know that I went against your personal wishes by confronting Sid about his lack of involvement. It was wrong of me to do so, and for that, I apologize. You probably never want to see or talk to me again because of it and I don't blame you. After all, I did the very thing you asked me not to do, and it not only hurt you, but it also added even more to the contention between you and Sid._

_Even though he needed to know that his abandonment of you and your child with him was wrong and still is, I called him out when you asked me not to and I can only blame myself for doing that._

_You have every reason to be angry with me. I won't stop you from feeling that way or try to persuade you to see me in a more favorable light._

_However, a friend recently told me that you miss me and wish I would still come by even after what happened. I don't know if that's the truth, or just wishful thinking on my part, but I like to think that you miss me, even if you don't._

_If you never wish to see or associate with me because of what I've done, please know that there will be no hard feelings and that I will respect your decision, even if it's inconsistent with what I want to happen._

_I don't know if you expected me to come by even after you told me to stay away, but in case you're wondering, I'll tell you why I haven't been by to see you. I know you have a lot of big decisions to make, and I wanted to give you some time and space to think through them. I felt that I'd be intruding in on something very personal to you if I came by as much as I did in the past few months._

_Helga, I want you to know that you're doing the right thing by placing your son for adoption. Your selflessness and willingness to put him first is a true testament to how much you love him. Even though I haven't met the couple you've chosen to be his parents, I know they are people who are prepared to have him. There's no doubt in my mind that Kevin and Christine will do an amazing job, and I know they already love him as much as you do._

_I've never felt so sure of anything before in my life and I know that this is what you're supposed to be doing. I honestly feel that the family your son is going to_ _**NEEDS**_ _him._

_You're an amazing person who is doing something truly extraordinary. I want you to know that I never thought any less of you when I first learned you were pregnant. You're a remarkable young woman and my admiration of you has only increased._

_Even though I haven't been around lately, I want you to know that you will always have my friendship. If you ever need someone to talk to, or if you ever need a friend, I'll always be there for you. No matter what happens, I'll support you every step of the way._

_Always,_

_~Arnold Shortman_

_P.S.: You're probably wondering why I would give you the items that are in this box. I'm simply returning them because they have always belonged to you._

After reading over the words in the card several times, Helga unmasked the white tissue paper inside of the box and let out a small gasp when she saw what was inside of it.

A red, high heeled shoe and a little pink notebook lay side by side next to each other.

Picking up the journal and flipping through its pages with reverence, she came across a lock of his cornflower hair sealed to the page with an old band-aid, wads of his chewed gum in various colors, and the lyrical poems she wrote during her days as a fourth grader. It was the same little pink book she tried to retrieve from Arnold's grasp those six years ago, as he tried to decipher the book's owner, while she went so far as to sneak in his room and hide herself inside his closet all whilst hoping that he wouldn't figure it out. Upon setting the book down, she held up the red shoe she wore on the Valentine's Day date with him when she masqueraded as Cecile. It still looked exactly the same, and never ceased shining.

At long last, Helga reached the awareness that Arnold knew her true and complete identity. He valued all that she was, even with her flaws, and still accepted her in spite of them.

Putting the book and shoe back inside the box, her father said, _"You love him."_

The young woman looked at her father after putting the lid back onto package and replied, _"Always."_

Long after her father and older sister left her room, and long after she should've been in bed sleeping, Helga finished Arnold's card to her after rereading it for what seemed like the thousandth time and placed it on her desk, laying it next to her calendar, which was covered by the box the little pink book and red shoe came in. Noticing that her closet door was still open from earlier that morning, she picked up the box, toddled with slowness toward it, and turned on the light once she was inside.

She instantly saw the small, black box the red heels originally came in at the top shelf of her closet, just above her shrine to Arnold. Reaching for the box while keeping the other one nestled in the crook of her arm, she got it down and placed the red shoe inside of it with the other one. Upon setting the parcel back onto the shelf and turning toward the two ledges across from her, she took the little pink book out of the box she held close to her and placed it next to the other others lined along the top before her eyes fell on the numerous grey binders that housed the many letters she wrote to her beloved, but never sent. The expectant young woman found herself facing the navy blue binders adjacent to her, which contained his letters to her before finally facing the grey ones again.

Helga smiled, feeling her face light up, and ran to her phone as fast as her pregnant self would let her.

Dialing the numbers on her phone quickly, she breathed a loud sigh of relief when she was greeted with an answer on the other line.

"Phoebe?" she asked, "It's Helga. I need your help with something… can you come by tomorrow?"

**VI**

"You want to do _what?_" Olga asked incredulously as she stood next to Helga and Phoebe inside her closet, her azure eyes staring at the grey binders.

Looking at her young sister, she asked, "Do you _really_ think that's _safe,_ Baby Sister?"

"We'll have to plan things _very_ carefully," Phoebe said, counting the number of binders with her fingers, "But I'm certain that with some very careful planning, and some more help, that we'll be able to execute Helga's strategy with ease."

Helga gave her best friend a hug, grateful for her willingness to help, and inquired, "Phoebe, where are we going to get more… _help_ for this?"

"I made a phone call," Phoebe responded with a smile as she led the two sisters out to Helga's room. Once the young woman was outside her closet, she let out an excited scream and ran toward Whitney, throwing her arms around her.

"You look _amazing!_" Helga exclaimed as she surveyed her friend's tanned complexion. "I didn't think you'd be back here so soon!"

"I had to be back in time for classes," Whitney replied. "I'm on scholarship now, so I have to start earlier, but on the bright side, my hours at Slausen's only have to be part-time now."

Turning around as she watched Olga and Phoebe begin taking the grey binders down from their shelf and stacking them into the brown cardboard boxes Olga brought into Helga's room earlier, she asked, "Have you talked to Arnold lately?"

"No," Helga said, despondent. "What we're doing is my apology to him… we're going to surprise him with all the letters I've written to him over the years, but never bothered to send."

Whitney grinned at Helga, her chocolate eyes lighting up, and said, "Let's get to work!"

It didn't take long, however, for Helga and Whitney to help with packaging the binders, as Olga and Phoebe were very efficient when it came to casing together items and boxing them. Soon, the four of them found themselves inside Olga's silver Mini Cooper on their way to Arnold's house. Helga brought Kevin and Christine's adoption profile with her and showed it to Whitney and Phoebe on the ride over. The two of them liked the young, down to earth couple, wanted details on how the meeting went, and were happy to hear that it had gone well.

Upon parking in front of the Sunset Arms boardinghouse, Helga, Olga, Whitney and Phoebe worked fast and got all the boxes out of the trunk and brought them to the side of the boardinghouse where the fire escape was located.

"Arnold's room is _right there,_" Helga said, pointing to the highest window on the Sunset Arms. "Our plan is to climb the fire escape, go through that window, and put the boxes in there without him knowing about it."

"Um… Helga?" Whitney inquired, her voice worried, "Should you really be climbing the fire escape in your condition?"

"I've done it in my sleep," Helga snorted, her tone of voice indicating that climbing several rickety flights of stairs while heavily pregnant wasn't a big deal to her, "I can handle it."

Whitney, who looked utterly alarmed, turned to Phoebe.

"She really has," Phoebe said, laughing as she surveyed the boxes at their feet.

"I suggested to Gerald that he invite Arnold to spend the day with him. That way, his bedroom is free for us to place the boxes into for him to find when he gets home. Additionally, to avoid any disturbances among Arnold's family and the boarders of the Sunset Arms, I called his parents and informed him of the plan. They've promised not to disturb us, and they're anxious to see how Arnold will react to this." Looking at Helga, she said, "They miss you."

Feeling herself blush, Helga smiled at Phoebe and then looked at Whitney, who asked, "If his family knows we're doing this, why are we putting the boxes into his room through his _window?_"

Helga only laughed and said, "It's apart of the fun!" Seeing that her well-meaning friend wasn't convinced, she added playfully, "Although, climbing the fire escape with your eyes wide open isn't as much fun when you could be doing it while sleepwalking instead."

Phoebe erupted into laughter and began climbing the fire escape with a box in her hands, motioning for Olga and Whitney to follow her lead. Helga came up with a few boxes, but only because her older sister made sure they were the lightest ones and wouldn't pose any harm to her or the baby. Once they finished stacking the boxes neatly in the middle of Arnold's room, Helga placed a single letter on top of the last box, and the four of them climbed down the fire escape. They went to the aquarium to calm Helga down and ease her nerves per Phoebe's suggestion. She sensed that Helga was still worried about how Arnold would react upon seeing the letters in his room. Even now, and despite how irrational it was, she was still afraid of his rejection, despite knowing that he accepted her for who she was.

Staring at the angelfish that swam in front of her, the young woman put her hand onto the glass and followed them with her fingertips, her mind still on Arnold, and still thinking about how things would be different between them, even after their apologies. His letter to her promised friendship, and even though Helga was grateful for his apology and his sincerity in writing it, along with his recognition of who she was, there was a part of her that bemoaned the fact that there wasn't anything more. As she continued following the trail of fish behind the glass in front of her, she wondered if facing Arnold again was worth all the trouble and if she only wasted her time in giving all those letters to him – words solidifying her undying love and devotion even in the face of opposition.

There was only one way, but even Helga was unsure of whether or not it would produce the desired outcome.

"_Why don't you go back?"_ she said quietly to herself, "_You wouldn't hurt any more and you wouldn't have to be alone."_

Taking a deep breath as she watched all the sea life around and above her, she said, _"If you don't go… you'll be sad. You'll lose all you possessed… and even then, Arnold would never leave your memory."_

After spotting Olga, Phoebe, and Whitney at the shark exhibit, she ran toward them and said, "I'm catching a bus back to Hillwood."

"Why?" Whitney asked.

"Because," the young woman responded, her eyes focused on the exit, "I need to go back."

**VII**

Arnold, having just spent the day at Quigley Stadium with Gerald, watching a pre-season baseball game and stuffing his face with hot dogs at Mickey's Dog Pound afterwards, walked sluggishly upstairs to his bedroom. He still hadn't heard back from Helga since he dropped off the package at her house the day before. It wasn't like he expected her to say anything to him, especially since he only promised her friendship.

The young man wondered if he should've offered more to Helga, who was in the toughest and most susceptible position in her life. He knew she craved love and acceptance more than anything. Arnold was certain he loved her, but didn't want to leave her with any empty promises since he was heading to Europe in September. It was for the both of them. The young man needed time away from all the complexities that surrounded him and to ultimately figure things out, and like with her decision to pursue adoption, only Helga could choose where her future would take her.

When the blonde teenager turned on the light to his room, he was surprised to see several brown boxes on the floor, waiting to be opened. A solitary white envelope was on the first box with his name written on it in nice calligraphy.

Approaching the boxes with tentativeness, he picked up the envelope and opened it, smoothing the paper with his fingers before allowing himself to read the words on the page in front of him.

_I'm sorry about how everything has played out over the past little while. You've been nothing but a good friend to me, and I never did show that I was grateful to you the way I should have. I hope this apology will be enough when all is said and done, but I understand if it isn't. I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me. I'm grateful that you've never looked down on me for being a pregnant teenager even when most people around you were doing so. You've always seen and accepted me for who I am, and that fact, along with the support you've bestowed upon me during this time is more than I'll ever be able to repay._

_Despite that, I knew there was something I had to do for you. Even though you never received any letters from me from the day you moved away to the moment you returned, I wrote to you every single day… only I was too scared to send those letters. These boxes in front of you hold all the letters I wrote to you over the past years._

_They now belong to you._

_Au revoir Arnold,_

_~Helga_

The young man placed the letter onto his desk before returning to the boxes. He opened the first one and let out a gasp of shock when he saw numerous grey binders inside. Picking up the first heavy binder, which was labeled with the first Roman numeral written on its front and along the side, he opened it and saw that the first letter inside of it was written on the first day of the Parents Weekend Tournament that they participated in at the age of nine. In the letter, Helga apologized for her father's thoughtless actions and name-calling, and confessed that she always loved him. In the letter, she listed several moments of him helping people over the years, and how much she admired him for it.

The following letter skipped ahead several years into the future and was written the day he moved away. In the letter, Helga apologized to him for all the times she was horrible to them throughout their courtship, and reminisced on all the good times they had together.

Entranced by what he was reading, Arnold continued opening all the boxes and reading the numerous correspondences Helga wrote to him, detailing her home life and what was happening at school. Some of the letters told of her growing friendship with Sid and chronicled its unfolding.

Each of the letters ended with the words, _"I love you."_

To his surprise, none of the letters mentioned her sexual encounter with Sid or the fact that she was pregnant. He was shocked to find that her later letters, written between the day she slept with Sid and up to the day before the two of them were reunited, detailed her life as if nothing extraordinary had happened. However, when he reached the final page inside of the last binder, he found that the paper was crinkled and unsmooth, as if it'd been crumpled up into a ball several times over. Taking the paper out of its pocket protector and smoothing it out as best he could, he held the letter up to the light, surprised at what he read.

The letter was written on the very day he saw Helga again and learned of her predicament.

_Dear Arnold,_

_I know it seems strange that this is the first letter in three years that I've actually sent you. I've started this a hundred different times, trying to figure out how to tell you what needs to be said. I've thought about_ _**not**_ _telling you what I'm about to reveal at all, but that wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair if I kept you in the dark concerning this matter, because I need to be honest with you. You deserve to hear the truth from me more than anything._

_I'm pregnant._

_Sid is the father of my son, and I'm already six months along. When you moved away, the two of us became friends, and as we grew older, his feelings for me only increased. We slept together the Friday before Thanksgiving break at some party Wolfgang hosted at his house. I didn't plan on going, but when Sid invited to come along, I decided to go because I had no one else to go with. The next thing I knew, I found myself making out with him, and when he suggested we have sex, I decided to go with it. I felt that if I couldn't have_ _**you,**_ _that at least I could have what seemed to be the next best thing._

_However, it didn't take me long to realize that I never should've settled for Sid, especially since he has no interest in the wellbeing of his son. The truth is that I still love you Arnold, even though chances are that you no longer feel the same way about me. I often fear that my affection for you will continue to go unrequited all while I pay for the consequences of my actions by giving life to another. Though I love my unborn child, I often have doubts about whether or not I_ _**should**_ _raise him even though I plan to do so._

_My life is so conflicted, and even though I know you're oceans away from me, you've always helped those around you and known what to say. This is perhaps too much of a reach, but I would be grateful for any words of wisdom you feel the need to bestow upon me._

_Thank you for everything you've done._

_I love you,_

_~Helga_

Taking Helga's final letter to him down from the light, he put it back into its original pocket protect and found himself turning away from the boxes and leaving his bedroom for the downstairs, his mind feeling a million different emotions.

Helga still loved him despite everything and finally let the words that went unsaid for so long be released for him to know exactly what she was feeling. The young woman told him once, twice, and beyond that she didn't want him associating with her, but clearly still wanted him. She valued his friendship and indebted to him, and yet signed her first letter with a goodbye.

Did she expect nothing to come of their apologies to each other?

When he found himself downstairs, his parents were there to greet him, as if they somehow knew that Helga would be leaving him boxes of letters in his bedroom.

Eyeing them as he made his way into the parlor, he said, "I don't know what to think anymore."

Noticing that his parents only continued staring at him, he said, "I know that she still loves me despite what's happened, but it's hard to say how things will be between us even after the apologies. If, for whatever reason, Helga and I never end up together, I'll still support her. She's giving her son to a family who _needs_ him, and that alone grants her my admiration, even if nothing else comes of it."

Taking a deep breath, Arnold went to answer the door after he heard the doorbell.

Opening the brightly colored green door, Arnold was surprised to see Helga standing before him, a nervous smile on her lips.

"Hey," she said, her voice low.

"Hi."

She looked up and stared at him with her cobalt eyes.

"I miss you," she admitted, turning her head away from him, as if afraid to meet his gaze once he heard her confession.

"Helga – "

When she looked at him again after a moment of hesitation, Arnold began running a hand through his hair with uncertainty, not knowing what to expect. Nevertheless, he found his eyes staring at her widening girth and back at her face again, and he told her, "I miss you too."

The young woman standing across from him reached for his hand and placed it onto her stomach, allowing him to feel the child inside of her move about actively from within the confines of her large stomach.

"I wasn't the only one who was sad when you were gone."

**VIII**

The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"I'm going to be a father," Sid said as he stared at Mr. Slausen, not wanting to touch the plate of food in front of him. He already felt sick enough, and he didn't feel that an avocado bacon cheeseburger with French fries would remedy the situation.

Already hating the sound of silence that filled the space between him and the owner of Slausen's, the monumental ice-cream parlor sitting across from him, he remarked, "I did it. I was the one who got Helga pregnant and I refused to be involved because of my own fears, insecurities, and resentments."

Mr. Slausen leaned back with his arms folded, and sighed.

"I was afraid this would happen. I knew there was the possibility that you would be lured by revenge and find that getting even would be more appealing to you than doing what was right." Eyeing Sid, the elderly man added, "It happens far more often than it should."

"I feel _horrible,_" Sid moaned as he looked down. "I really hurt Helga and embarrassed her in front of so many people… and by doing that, I hurt the one person who was doing _my_ job in the first place and who set me straight when I needed it. I _wanted_ to do the right thing after talking with you the first time around, but I just hated that Arnold put my faults on display for everyone to see and acted as though Helga was completely innocent!"

"Helga Pataki is _not_ entirely blameless," Mr. Slausen said knowingly. "Believe it or not, Mr. Gifaldi, Arnold knows that. Yes, you _are_ indeed an injured party in this unfortunate circumstance, but unlike Helga, you haven't taken your share of the responsibility. Dousing her with a confectionary drink and a butter cream cake obviously didn't make the problem go away or help you feel any better."

Sid blinked and began, "How did you – "

"_Word travels around fast here,"_ the older man answered darkly. _"You, my friend, should consider yourself blessed that nobody's told your parents about how foolish you've acted."_ His brown eyes glinting at Sid, he finished, _"Of course, they don't want to do your job for you."_

"I know I'm a bad person, okay?" Sid snapped, "I just didn't realize how awful I was actually being toward her until I slid the cake onto her stomach and let my hands rest there…" His voice wavering, he said, "I felt _our child_ moving around inside of her."

Scratching the back of his neck, he said lamely, "I _do_ want to be a father."

Mr. Slausen stared at Sid and informed him, "You're the father of Helga's child only through genetic means. It takes far more effort to be a _true father_ and a _parent,_ and you missed your chance, Mr. Gifaldi." Though the old man's tone of voice was soft and quiet, Sid sensed the disappointment that was in it, and felt that it would've been better if the man shouted at him instead. The young man squirmed in his seat and felt himself recoiling from the older man's sad gaze when he commented, "I'm afraid that role's already been cast."

"_By who?"_ the irresponsible teenager spat at Mr. Slausen, glaring at him once he broke free from his earlier withdrawal, _"Arnold Shortman?"_

"Helga knows better than to tie down Arnold like that," he said coldly. "She loves him enough to set him free and accept that he'll come back to her if he wants to do so, but will understand if he doesn't, even if it leaves her heartbroken."

Sid looked at Mr. Slausen and inquired with a cheerless curiosity, "If it's not Arnold – "

"I don't have all the answers, Mr. Gifaldi," the man said, "But something tells me that Helga chose someone _you_ wouldn't think of."

He froze, knowing _exactly_ what Mr. Slausen meant.

"If you're serious about apologizing to Helga _this time around,_ you'll first begin by deciding now to respect her wishes," the aged man said with firmness. "You will promise yourself, at this very moment, that you _won't_ back down or put up a fight concerning the fate she chose for your child. If you wanted to have a say in it, you should've been involved and been doing the job you left for someone else to do."

The young man nodded, knowing not to defy or go against the advice he was given, or to go against any form of guidance he was presented with _ever again._

"When can I see her again?" Sid asked, his voice timid. "Will I ever see my child?"

"_You'll be lucky if you do,"_ Mr. Slausen said bluntly. "As for Helga, I say that you'll see her again and apologize at the right time. It'll happen when you're ready to be mature about the situation and fit to move forward with your life. When you can put all the hurt behind you and promise not to be spiteful toward the mother of your child, that's when you'll be ready. Your heart will let you know when that is."

"Okay," Sid said, his voice resigned. He looked down and added, "I realized the moment I came to you that I would have to go back…. even if there is a waiting period, and even if it hurts, I need to do what's right because it'll only get worse if I don't. This is something I have to do."

"You know what needs to be done," Mr. Slausen told him. "You've known it all along."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "Embers And Envelopes" with lyrics written by Gimenez and performed by the band Mae. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	13. You've Changed Me Inside

**Chapter XIII: You've Changed Me Inside**

_I've heard so many words  
But I had no courage  
Now we're saying goodbye  
Don't want to miss you tonight_

_Tell me it's not over now  
I can change your mind somehow_

_I give it all  
I trip and fall for you  
And I hope you wouldn't mind  
Just one more try, for something new  
I need you_

_Don't be shocked if I cry  
You've changed me inside  
I turned my back on you  
You were the only reason I pulled through  
I pulled through_

_Tell me it's not over now  
I can change your mind somehow  
My head feels so heavy  
My heart is so empty_

_I give it all  
I trip and fall  
I trip and fall for you  
And I hope you wouldn't mind_

_Hope you wouldn't mind_

_Just one more try_

_For something new_

_I need you_

~He Is We, "Give It All"~

* * *

**I**

The month of August was _always_ the hottest one of the year in Hillwood, and this year was no exception. Helga Pataki found the humid, sticky weather _especially_ unbearable in her final month of pregnancy. In addition, the slow, summer days that ticked by like a clock being watched didn't help the situation, and only left the young woman feeling anxious and apprehensive. Neither did the fact that the signs of an "imminent" labor, not excluding a bloody, gag-inducing show that lasted five days, Braxton Hicks contractions that ultimately produced no outcome, and a cruel, ironic nesting instinct that led Helga to her knees in scrubbing the bathroom, cleaning the kitchen, dining and living rooms, and ensuring that her room was spotless, only added greatly to her discomfort. Worst of all were the aches and pains she felt during, and after, the lightening of her son's body further into her pelvis area, forcing her to make frequent trips to the restroom. Though her stomach _finally_ stopped growing, she found that her clothing selection was limited to a few shirts that barely covered her large abdomen and three pairs of jeans. Helga soon learned the hard way that she needed to avoid putting spills and stains on her clothes unless she wanted to do an obscene amount of laundry everyday.

In spite of it all, her parents and older sister stepped up to the plate and spent every waking moment they could ensuring that she was comfortable and well-rested during the last days of her pregnancy. Though Olga couldn't take time off due to her daily rehearsals in preparation for her forthcoming Broadway debut, she offered her company whenever she could. Her mother and father spent less time in the workforce and more time at home. They situated her on the couch in the trophy room so she could have quick and easy access to the kitchen and downstairs restroom whenever she needed it. They ran the air conditioning to its lowest level for her comfort whilst they donned sweaters, gloves, knee socks, long pants, and closed toe shoes. To Helga's amusement, her father was seen one sweltering day in the middle of August sporting a pair of bright green earmuffs. Bob and Miriam often insisted on getting everything for their daughter and didn't want her doing any strenuous activity, both for her sake, as well as the baby's. As a result, the soon-to-be young mother often found herself shifting her pregnant body on the couch in various positions, attempting to get comfortable whilst her son continued kicking, punching, and performing somersaults within the barriers of her womb.

Though Helga insisted that her family didn't need to dote on her, she soon found herself enjoying the one-on-one time she received from both her mother and father whenever they took time off from work. It wasn't long before she introduced Bob to her favorite miniseries on the BBC, whereupon his favorite quickly became _Sense and Sensibility._ Meanwhile, he tried to interest his daughter in "The Wheel," and his favorite soap opera, but to no avail. When that didn't work, he tried persuading her into watching the endless wrestling marathons on the WWE, but for whatever the reason, she _still_ couldn't stomach watching the brutal sport. It never ceased to amaze Bob how much pregnancy truly changed his youngest daughter. She grew up because of it, becoming stronger, wiser, more mature, and even _beautiful_ in the process. It was only just _now_ that the older man was beginning to see the beauty Helga possessed.

Though Bob never admitted it, he loved that his daughter had a voice and mind of her own. The young woman _never_ backed down, even when she was defying him and his authority. Though Bob was often furious whenever Helga chose to openly challenge him, he knew it took a lot of determination, strength, and an extraordinarily strong will to face him and counter his hostility. People often cowered in his presence and were scared to face him, but Helga _never_ was. It was because his _own daughter_ stood up to him that she was able to let her baby have the best possible life.

Even after the meeting with Kevin and Christine and knowing that adoption was the right thing to do, Bob still lamented over only having his unnamed grandson for a short period of time before he came of age. The man was well aware of the possibility that his grandson wouldn't want to meet his birth family. The odds of only knowing his first grandchild through pictures and biannual updates often seemed to be stacked against the older man, and it scared him more than anything.

Yet in spite of it all, he never ceased admiring Helga for doing what was best for her child despite all the opposition he threw at her.

Helga shifted her heavy body, curled in the fetal position, away from the television screen that displayed the rerun of "The Wheel" her father insisted on watching and turned about so she lay on her back. Turning her face toward her father's, she gave him a small smile as she watched him in the deep slumber he fell into shortly after the opening credits to his favorite show began playing. The young woman knew he was trying his hardest to make up for lost time, and her appreciation for his efforts was more than what words could convey. After her father's apology, Helga recognized that she could spend the rest of her life resenting him for his blatant neglect in the past and for all the times he scarred her emotionally before and during her pregnancy.

However, she knew it wouldn't do her, or her son, any good. Despite giving her baby to another family to raise, it was Helga's wish that he not only know about she and Sid, but that he also know of his entire array of extended, biological family on both sides. If her son ever wished to know more about his birth family once he came of age, Helga would be more than willing to help him put together the missing pieces to the best of her ability.

Sid's cowardice still really hurt Helga. She soon found that the main reason why his refusal to be involved saddened her was because it meant that their child together would only know of his birth father through the pictures and written history she planned on presenting to Kevin and Christine at the imminent, official hand-off. It would only be once her son grew up and _wanted_ to know more about she and Sid that he would learn everything else. Helga knew there was the likelihood that her son would show a lack of interest in her, as well as Sid. She hoped that would never be the case and trusted that Kevin and Christine would tell her baby about his birthparents. Though Helga desired the opportunity to meet with him before he came of age, she refused to meddle in the lives of her son, Kevin, and Christine. The young woman knew she could not force herself into her baby's life and though it pained her greatly, she was willing to know of her child and his life merely through photographs and written information if that was in his best interests.

If her son chose not to meet her and if he showed no interest in learning more about his birth family, then Helga would stay away. She always knew she couldn't pose that risk. The matured, expectant teenager recognized that doing so would only hinder her son's progress, keep him from living his life, and would ultimately prevent him from constructing his own individuality.

Helga took a deep breath and chose not to let her mind dwell on Sid. Despite all the hurt he inflicted on both her and their child, she realized that he was only hurting himself in doing so. By choosing not to be involved, Sid was missing out on something truly beautiful and assumed many great risks. He put himself in the position of being despised and resented, not just by Helga, but also by his own flesh and blood. If Sid ever came to the realization that he _truly wanted_ to be a father, he risked coming to the realization that he'd done too little, and was far too late to change anyone's mind. Because Helga planned to relinquish their child, Sid set himself up to know nothing of their son together and who he would become. There were times when the young woman felt that she was being selfish in choosing not to tell Sid of the fate she selected for their unborn baby. Helga often wondered if she should be the bigger person, letting Sid know of his child and the adoptive parents chosen for him. However, he'd been explicit in his refusal to help Helga and their baby. She felt that if he didn't care about their son when he first learned she was expecting or during the course of the actual pregnancy, then what difference would it make when the child was actually _born?_

The young woman shook her head, releasing Sid from her mind and soon found herself falling into her mother's embrace. She sighed contentedly as Miriam stroked her hair with gentleness before bending over and giving her youngest daughter a kiss on the forehead.

"How are the two of you doing today?" she asked soothingly, looking down at her daughter's large stomach with blue eyes hidden behind her distinctive glasses.

Helga yawned and stretched her limbs before curling her pregnant body back into the fetal position, whereupon she rested her head on her mother's lap. She closed her eyes and smiled before giving her reply, grateful to _finally_ know what it was like to have a _true mother._

"We're fine," Helga breathed as Miriam continued smoothing her thick, blonde tresses with gentle hands. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she added, trying to keep her voice even, "I just can't believe it's ending."

"Endings are just merely new beginnings," Miriam assured her daughter, her voice full of perception as she began massaging her back. "Your life doesn't have to end just because you're having a baby. You don't have to put your life on hold when you become a mother."

The young woman stared at her own mother with sadness swimming in her blue eyes and asked sorrowfully, "How can you say that? I'm only the mother of my child through biological means."

Miriam looked down at her young, teenage daughter and sighed, not knowing what to say. She silently lamented the fact that it took such an extenuating circumstance for her to step up and be the kind of woman and mother she should've been so long ago. Helga had already been through _so much_ at the tender age of fifteen. She made decisions and suffered through such _blatant neglect_ and heartache _no person_ should have to go through that Miriam herself could not even fathom it. In spite of all the emotional trauma and despair that'd been dealt to the older woman, she _never_ should've turned to the bottles of fine wine and vodka kept in the kitchen cabinets or the numberless cans of Budweiser Bob always kept in the refrigerator when she had to settle. After spending years and moments of her life wasted buried deep in the pit of alcoholism, the older woman finally found her way out and gained the success she always dreamed of along the way, only to sacrifice the needs of her youngest daughter in the process.

She often wondered if things would've turned out differently had she made more of an effort to be there for her child. Perhaps Helga would've been more open with her and actually willing to share what went on in her life, such as her days at school, get-togethers with friends, and her feelings for Arnold. Maybe the two of them would've had quality moments of mother-daughter talks and opportunities to bond with each other over trips to Lamoreaux's Bookstore, lunches at Bigal's Café, or even simple chats on Miriam's bed as she helped Helga with her homework.

Maybe none of this would've happened.

In spite of it all however, Miriam could not deny that Helga was a far better mother than _she_ ever would be. Though her unnamed grandson had yet to make his entrance into the world, Helga already made the choices that ensured him a good, quality life, even though it meant giving him up. From the beginning, she put him first in all that she did, and was going to bless so many people through her choice to pursue adoption.

Knowing what to tell her daughter at last, Miriam asked, "Do you remember what Christine told you when we met her and Kevin at the meeting a few weeks ago?" When her daughter only nodded, she said comfortingly, "She told you that _this baby_ would _always_ be your son. While it's true that you've chosen other people to be his parents, he'll _always_ be apart of you. You'll constitute a part of who he is. By giving him to Kevin and Christine, you're giving them the opportunity to be _wonderful_ parents, and I trust that they'll do all they can to give your son a _great_ life. Parenthood changes _everything,_ Helga. Kevin and Christine will face an _entirely_ new beginning once you place _this baby_ in their arms for the first time. Your son will face many of them during his lifetime, but that's just the way life is."

Taking a deep breath, the woman added, "Helga, the one thing I _never_ want you to do is put your life on hold. I did that and missed out on _so_ much. I wasted so many years of my life passed out drunk and working hard to finally achieve the success I craved for so long. Since then, I've found that there are _huge_ segments of my life I either don't remember, or don't wish to _ever_ recall."

Helga nodded, pursed her lips together, and without thinking, bit down on her upper lip to keep herself from crying. She was truly amazed at how her mother could finally give her the advice she needed to hear and tell her what to do in order to move forward.

"As you know, this adoption will change everything," her mother said quietly. "There will be days where you won't want to do anything but cry, pull your hair out, and scream at the world. You may think at times that your life is over and that you won't be able to go on. Sometimes you'll feel as though you don't deserve to be happy even though you're doing the right thing, and you might want to hold back on doing what you enjoy because of what's happened in the past." Her mother paused and said as she continued massaging her daughter's back, "That isn't true, Helga. I thought that way for a long time, and it didn't get me anywhere."

"What am I supposed to do?" Helga inquired, her voice sullen. "Everything's going to be different. _I'm_ _not like everybody else!_" She paused before saying quietly, "The adoption will only _add_ to that."

"You have to move forward," Miriam said, her voice straightforward. "Your son would never want you to think that you have to stop living your life just because you've done things you aren't particularly proud of. That's also the _last_ thing Kevin and Christine want you to do. You're giving them something amazing, and I know their hope is that you'll do all you can to live a successful life."

Helga smiled upon thinking of the kind, loving couple that would give her son a name and raise him. Just days after the young woman sent the four packages to Kevin and Christine, she received a sweet note from them, thanking her for providing them with the baby's necessities. If anything, the thoughtful note brought peace to her mind and heart, letting her know that Kevin and Christine would love her baby and do all they could to give him a wonderful life.

Her mother returned the smile and added, "You also have a group of _amazing_ friends. They're loyal and they really do care about you. If anything, I trust that they'll be there to help you out, as they always have been…"

As Miriam's voice, filled with the bitter pangs of remorse trailed off into the silence, Helga thought about her friends. Aside from Doctor Bliss, they were the people who only wished for her success and were always there to lend a helping hand. For a long time, they kept her from treading the precarious line between hope and despair. She thought of Whitney, who was there for her from the beginning, always offering advice, support, and the best brownie sundaes anyone could ever hope to taste. The young woman soon found herself smiling when thinking about her friend, and the time she took to visit Helga at her house after her long days balancing work and university.

Phoebe was also in her life again, and it didn't take long for the pregnant teenager to realize how much she missed her. In her own despair, Helga failed to realize that Phoebe never did judge her for her actions or for becoming pregnant. Rather, Phoebe was always there for Helga as a silent support, waiting patiently for her stubborn, but best and closest friend to admit that she needed a little more help. She too came by daily to pay Helga visits. Sometimes, she even brought Gerald along, and soon Helga found that she enjoyed his company, calm demeanor, and his humor. On occasion, Phoebe took Helga on outings. Even if they only walked to the Corner Store and back, the young woman was still grateful for the opportunity her friend allowed her to get out of the house, along with the ability to stretch her swollen limbs.

Then, there was Arnold, who never ceased being her saving grace.

Like Whitney and Phoebe, Arnold stopped by and visited Helga daily, often taking her out to places such as the Zoological Gardens and the park. On occasion, he brought over little gifts for her, such as sets of nice stationery and pens, a box filled with intricately decorated greeting cards, quote books, and homemade treats.

She knew all was well between them now, but became upset when he announced his plans to travel throughout Europe with his parents for a year.

Though the young woman knew they both needed their space and that _she_ needed it more than he did, it didn't stop her from feeling uncertain about the future. While her mother's words of comfort rang true, and even though she had faithful friends and a strong support system to help her when she would so desperately need it after the relinquishment of her child, it still scared her to know that Arnold wouldn't _physically be there_ to offer her his counsel when she would need it most. After the official adoption took place, Helga would need to formulate a plan for her life and figure out where the future would take her. She knew those decisions needed to be made by herself and absent of Arnold. Even when the truth of the matter pained her, it always came down to the fact that she loved Arnold and needed to free him for that time, both for _his_ sake, as well as her own.

Noticing that her father still slept soundlessly, Helga turned toward her mother and said, with the hint of a small smile upon her face, "I recorded _Pride and Prejudice._ Would you like to watch it?"

"I would love to," her mother replied with a smile of her own. After giving her daughter another kiss on the forehead, she retrieved the remote from Bob's grasp, changed the channel, and then returned to her former place on the couch, upon which mother and daughter embraced each other and watched the movie together.

Miriam turned to her daughter and thought about the child she carried within her womb. She had the feeling that her grandson would have so much of his mother in him even though he was being adopted into another family. People often debated over what truly made a person. Was it heredity? Was it the genetics, personality traits, and talents that Helga and Sid (Miriam gritted her teeth with frustration at the thought of the reckless teenager who deliberately abandoned her daughter and grandchild) would pass down to their son? Or would it be the environment in which Kevin and Christine would raise him in, providing him with all the love and support Helga wanted her son to have, but could not give?

The truth was that neither of those things would be an influential factor in determining the kind of person her grandson would one day become.

Simply put, it was purely two different kinds of love.

**II**

The eighth month of the year continued to pass by at a leisurely pace. Helga's frequent appointments with Doctor Warner provided her with little evidence of there being progress or any indication showing that she was ready to deliver. The young woman was still set to be induced on her original due date of August thirty-first and she often found herself having mixed feelings concerning the matter.

While she tired of the discomforts the last month of pregnancy brought her, she was also grateful for what little time she had left to spend with her unborn son.

Helga was going to miss him once he was gone. The young woman would miss the consistent motions of his body from within her and the peaceful moments of solitude she spent laying in bed with her hands on her swollen belly, feeling the vibration of her child's movements from the inside that bonded the two of them together. She would also miss the hours spent only reading the best books and pieces of classic literature out loud for him to hear, his eclectic musical taste, odd dispassion for meat, and the quiet solace he gave her in proving that she was never truly alone. It was as though her son knew about the adoption himself and refused to come out until it was deemed necessary.

To Helga, it seemed like the baby wanted her to spend all the time she could with him, from both within and outside the barriers of her womb.

Helga knew her time was limited. She contorted her face into a painful grimace as she stood up from sitting on her bed and picked up the calendar that lay on her desk, ignoring the back pain that tormented her since the early hours of that morning. Surveying the variously colored, circled, and starred dates in front of her with widened azure eyes, the imminent mother realized that the official hand-off was to take place in just five day's time, provided that her labor and delivery went smoothly and without complications.

At her previous session with Rosemary, which took place just after her most recent session with Doctor Bliss, the adoption agent informed her that she would have three days to spend with her baby after he was born. Once those days came to an end, Helga would then hand her son over to her new parents, sign the adoption papers, and ultimately finalize the relinquishment of her offspring.

The pregnant teenager sighed deeply as she put down her almanac, walked to the center of her bedroom, and stretched her inflamed limbs in an attempt to assuage the undeniable throbbing that went through her entire being. The young woman ignored the pain, not wanting it to deter her from having what fun she could on her final day of freedom.

Arnold took the day off from work just for Helga, and planned on taking her to the pier and then out to The Donut Café. The soon-to-be-mother was grateful for Arnold's invitation and _refused_ to miss out on her final opportunity to get out of the house, relax, and just _be herself_ before everything changed again.

Having been plagued with cabin fever over the course of the preceding week, the young woman insisted on being moved back up to her room. She yearned for her privacy again after Olga gave her numerous impromptu performances of the musical _Rats_ in preparation of her imminent Broadway debut; and though the young woman appreciated that her parents went above and beyond in showering her with affection, she insisted that they get out of the house and enjoy themselves for a change.

Once Helga finished stretching, the young woman dressed hastily after searching her closet for whatever clothes still fit her expectant body. After adorning some black sweatpants and a pale pink shirt, she secured her hair into the trademark pigtails she'd worn since preschool, along with her favorite navy blue cap worn backwards over the treasured pink bow she wore in her hair since her preschool days.

The blonde teenager descended the stairs with her weathered copy of _The Way We Live Now_ in the crook of her left arm, situated herself into her father's favorite chair inside the trophy room, and began reading the book aloud for what felt like the billionth time while waiting for Arnold to pick her up.

She read the Victorian novel more than the average person would in a lifetime, and yet the expectant teenager never tired of the intriguing tale. To Helga, the story _always_ got better with each successive reading, and she knew her son felt the same way, for he always took to rolling around serenely inside her stomach whilst she read verbally from the thickset book.

Upon finishing the third chapter, Helga heard a knock from the outside, signifying that Arnold had arrived to take her on their outing. The young woman stood up from the chair with slowness and answered the door. She felt relieved upon seeing Arnold smiling at her, his blonde spiky hair sticking upward, dressed in shades of red and yellow plaid, dark blue jeans, and White converse.

"Hey you," he greeted, wearing the same easygoing grin she always loved. He held out his hand for her to take and asked, "You ready?"

The young woman nodded and swallowed, feeling nervous butterflies mixed with anticipation swirling at the base of her large stomach. She gave Arnold a small smile while she brushed aside the discomfort that resulted from the pain she felt in her lower back.

The two of them walked with their hands clasped together to the Hillwood Pier, not saying anything to the other person. Helga watched as Arnold stared straight ahead with his distinct, beautiful green orbs while her own blue eyes darted all around her. She breathed deeply and rested her head on Arnold's shoulder, taking in the scent of his cologne. Without thinking, she released her hand from his grasp and wrapped her arms around him, which stopped the two of them in their tracks. Her smile grew wider and she closed her eyes in contentment as Arnold wrapped his own arms around her.

"Do you want to sit at the edge of the pier with me?" he inquired.

The young woman pulled away due to the physical agony that vibrated from within her body. However, despite knowing that Arnold was to take her to the pier that day, it brought back the cruel memory of Sid's abandonment upon telling him that she was pregnant.

"I won't leave you," Arnold assured her as he put his hands onto her shoulders. "It's going to be okay."

Helga nodded and took Arnold's hand again, whereupon they walked to the edge of the pier. They sat down at the ledge, letting their legs swing and dangle over its side. The young woman smiled at the sheer simplicity of the moment and laughed out loud as she watched her legs swing to and fro beneath her.

Turning to Arnold, she placed her hand on top of his and said, "You're going to Europe."

After Arnold turned and looked at her with his emerald pools, she withdrew her hand from his grasp and looked away, feeling herself blush. The young woman didn't know why she said that after already knowing the fact. Her true love was off to Europe at the beginning of September and was to spend an entire year exploring the continent and seeing the sights she only dreamed of visiting. Her being was once separated from his for an extended period of time that lasted for much longer than a year. Knowing that Arnold wouldn't physically be there to grace her presence on a daily basis shouldn't have been a shock to her, and yet it was. Helga was still scared about having to face so much change without him, despite knowing the necessity of the matter.

Having to part from Arnold yet again never changed the fact that she loved him still. Watching him as he only continued staring at her, Helga realized that she felt as though she _just barely_ got him back again after she pushed him away following the whirlwind Fourth of July weekend.

"You know everything's going to work out," Arnold said comfortingly as he placed a gentle hand onto her shoulder, "I"ll always be with you even when I'm oceans away."

"I… I feel like you've only _just_ returned," Helga said, downhearted. She stared down at her large stomach, which was positioned in between her upper legs and tried not to cry. The pain was becoming more unbearable, but it didn't yet outweigh her rollercoaster of emotions and the inner turmoil she felt within her the confines of her heart.

There was so much to do and say. Even so, there was so little time before she was to be induced early the next morning and begin the arduous process of saying two different and complicated goodbyes at once. She took a deep breath and looked up at the blue, cloudless sky above her. The sun beat down on her pallid, acne-covered face in the hopes that if it were possible, the sun would dry her tears. A brief moment of peace engulfed the young woman as Arnold laid his hand onto her large stomach as a means of quiet comfort.

"It's funny," the perceptive blonde sitting next to her said as his hand still rested on her abdomen, "I feel like I just got here."

Helga's breath caught in her throat, causing the expectant teenager to hold it within her as she absorbed Arnold's words and his sincerity. Studying the earnestness and care apparent in his eyes and etched upon his young, tanned face, the young woman realized that he would miss her just like she would miss him. Helga would long for his presence like she did when he left for the first time those three years ago.

Whilst continuing to take in Arnold's essence, the young woman realized that those three years were worlds away from the person she had become, and was still becoming. Helga was completely separate from that uncertain beginning, and it only took one impulsive act toward the end to age her beyond the fifteen turbulent years she spent on earth.

She looked down at Arnold's hand, which still rested on her engorged womb.

As she placed her hands on top of his, the honest, true to life words of his apology filled her mind.

The young man truly was sorry for all that transpired.

Helga soon found herself silently recalling the friend who brought her one true love back to life. This person, without even knowing her, read her mind and knew what both she _and_ Arnold needed.

For this person to know both Helga and Arnold so well, it dawned on the pregnant adolescent that this friend of his was once romantically involved with him. It occurred to Helga that Arnold wouldn't have been exclusively involved with another girl unless she bore some sort of resemblance to Helga _herself,_ whatever it may be. Somehow, in some way, Ayanna had been sent to Arnold to help him realize what he _truly_ needed and couldn't live without.

return to her. For all the time away, she thanked his former girlfriend for every moment and every word that enabled him to grow and that allowed for her to receive him.

Lifting her hands from atop of Arnold's, she used one hand to grasp his chin and tilt his head back gently while wrapping her other arm around his shoulders.

"I love you," she said. "I'll wait for you. Come back. Come back to me."

The two teenagers drew themselves toward each other as Arnold, while still keeping one hand on Helga's girth, used his arm to embrace her. He found his lips meeting hers as they shared an everlasting, but tender kiss that encompassed all that the other person was.

"_To you, I will always return,"_ Arnold thought. As his lips brushed her own, he realized at that very moment he didn't want to leave Helga behind even though they both needed it. _"I'll always come back."_

The young man would never break such a significant promise for as long as he lived.

Suddenly, the kiss ended with a quickened abruptness as the two of them split from each other, but only after Helga gave him a gentle kiss upon the lips.

Arnold stared at her, and soon found his lips caressing her forehead and left cheek with a soft delicateness. He then leaned in to kiss her yet again as he moved his arm away from her shoulder and placed his other hand upon her swelled stomach.

Staring into her sapphire orbs once his mouth parted from her paled skin, he told her earnestly, _"You're beautiful when you're pregnant."_

The young woman across from him blushed and averted her gaze away from his, as though she didn't believe the honest words that came from his mouth for her to receive. She refused to look at him despite knowing that his piercing green eyes continued to gaze upon her.

"Helga," he assured her, still keeping his hands on her swollen belly, "I meant what I said."

His gentle lips then caressed her rose colored mouth. Seemingly relieved, Helga kissed him back once more before she suddenly split apart from him and groaned, rubbing her lower back in pain.

Arnold instantly felt his entire body stiffen, as though it told him that something was not right while he let out a slow, deep breath. Trying hard to keep his voice even and his demeanor calm, he queried, "Are you okay, Helga?"

The pregnant teenager across sitting across from the young man nodded and gave him a small smile as she continued rubbing her backside.

"I'm a little sore," she admitted as her mouth turned into a pained scowl. "I'm thinking that I should go home and rest my back," she added, letting her voice trail off. The two of them continued to sit on the edge of the pier together in silence. The young man watched Helga with wary eyes as she continued massaging her lower backside in an attempt to alleviate her discomfort. Once the momentary pause ended, the young woman blushed furiously and sighed, "I'm sorry, Arnold."

"_Don't be,"_ Arnold said upon standing up and helping Helga get to her feet, brushing off his earlier feeling of trepidation. "The wellbeing of you and your son is more important."

Once the young man helped Helga stand up, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as the two of them began the walk back to Helga's house. He noticed that her breathing became slower and heavier with each progressive step as they made the return to the Pataki residence. The sojourn seemed to take much longer than from when the two of them left on their date earlier that morning. Oftentimes, Helga had to stop and catch her breath numerous times during their promenade. Arnold noticed that the saunter was making the young woman tired, and suggested that they catch a bus ride for the remainder of the return home. However, Helga declined the offer, insisting that walking gave her the opportunity to stretch her aching body.

"Are you sure?" the young man inquired, not wanting Helga to be uncomfortable.

"_Positive,"_ she responded, giving him a small smile. "We're almost home, anyway."

Arnold nodded continued to keep his arm around Helga as they finished their constitutional. Upon stepping inside the pregnant young woman's house, Arnold rested his hands upon Helga's shoulders and squeezed them gently as a sign of comfort, only for her to pull away from him and fall into a heap on the floor. She held her engorged abdomen with a pained expression on her face as the teenager's already fair complexion turned a sick, alabaster white.

"_Arnold,"_ she trembled, her voice hollow and her lips the palest shade of blue, _"It's time."_

The young man's mouth fell ajar in shock and his entire body froze. His breath was shaky as he realized that her family was in the city for the day taking part in Olga's dress rehearsal. Meanwhile, his own parents and grandparents were out of town for the day as well. They were with his mother and father, making the final arrangements for their European journey and introducing them to the foreign dignitaries they worked with. Ernie and Mr. Hyunh were at work, while Oskar and Suzie were _finally_ beginning the grueling divorce process at the courthouse. Gerald and Phoebe were on a date of their own, and the blonde teenager remembered Helga mentioning earlier that Whitney was at an antique photography workshop that took all day and needed to take an exam at the university afterward.

It all came down to _him._

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, Arnold knelt down next to Helga, placing his hands onto her shoulders yet again, and reassured, "Everything's going to be okay." After a brief pause in which he attempted to assuage his nerves, he asked evenly, "Do you have a hospital bag packed?"

"It's in the front closet," Helga croaked as she grimaced. She held onto her stomach, which was now hard to the touch, even more tightly as her face grew paler by the second. She took a deep breath and let it out with slowness before asking Arnold to call her family as well, directing him to the list of emergency phone numbers on the kitchen counter.

The anxious young man nodded as he rushed to the front closet and pulled out a large, pink duffel bag and then pulled his cell phone from his pocket in haste. He ran into the kitchen with Helga's hospital bag strung around his shoulders and called all the numbers on the list, which also included Phoebe, Whitney, Doctor Bliss, and Rosemary, her adoption agent. In addition, the blonde teenager also called his parents, the boardinghouse, and Gerald, letting them know that Helga was in labor and to get to the hospital as soon as possible. When he finished making the necessary phone calls, frustrated that he was directed to voicemail _every single time,_ he helped Helga off the floor, where the two of them walked out to the garage, their pace steady.

The color drained from Arnold's face when he saw that the only car parked in the Pataki's three-car garage was Bob Pataki's giant, camouflaged hummer.

"Helga, I – "

"_You're driving it,"_ she insisted, her tone of voice begging him not to leave her. _"The keys are hanging on the wooden hook right behind you."_

_"I only have my learner's permit from San Lorenzo!"_ the harried teenager cried out, putting his hands to his head in exasperation. He didn't want to contemplate the wrath he would feel from Helga's father if he crashed the mammoth-sized vehicle. _"I can't drive this!"_

With every degree of pain apparent on her face and in her body, the soon-to-be mother grabbed onto him, her enlarged body twisting in pain and said, her voice heavy, "I _need_ you, Arnold. I'm not ready for this, but I can't back out. You're the only person who _truly_ understands me." Holding onto him with a vice-like grip, she said, her azure eyes swimming with tears that fell down her ashen cheeks, _"Please help me."_

Arnold nodded and enveloped Helga into a hug, offering whatever meager comfort he could give before reaching for the hummer keys on the wooden hook behind him. Knowing that there was no time to spare, he unlocked the gigantic automobile, threw Helga's hospital bag into the back, and helped the young woman into the front seat, who insisted that she sit next to him on the way to the hospital. Arnold opened the garage before getting into the driver's seat and felt his anxiety escalate as he backed the motor vehicle out of the garage, hoping and praying that he wouldn't run anyone over or crash into anything while driving the massive car. Arnold closed the garage with the remote located on the mirror cover above the steering wheel and drove to the hospital one-handed, using the other to hold Helga's hand and lend support to the young woman as she breathed through her contractions.

After the tentative drive to the Hillwood Hospital, Arnold parked the astronomical hummer into the closest parking spot, retrieved Helga's duffel from the back of the car, and walked the young woman inside. She sat in one of the many chairs in the waiting room, clutching her belly and taking slow, aggrieved breaths as Arnold signed her in, provided the proof of her insurance, and filled out all the necessary paperwork.

Just when he finished filling out all the forms, Helga called out for him as she stood up, her complexion sickly and her electric blue eyes watery. As she reached out for him, a sudden, immense stream of water gushed from the lower half of her body, wetting her clothes and entire being in the process, forcing the young woman to the ground in humiliation.

_"Doctor! Nurse! Someone!"_ Arnold screamed, the words coming from his mouth against his control. As the young man continued calling out for help, he ran over to Helga, knelt next to the expectant soon-to-be young mother, and wrapped his arms around her. He tried to soothe Helga while she held herself close to him and held onto his shirt, sobbing quietly as she buried her face into his pullover.

"It looks like Miss Pataki's water just broke," a woman's voice from above them said, her voice firm and all-knowing. The two teenagers looked up to see a blonde, middle-aged woman with dark eyes and lips dressed in burgundy scrubs. Her name tag indicated that her name was Deanna. She held onto the handles of a wheelchair that stood in front of her. "Let's help you up," she told Helga kindly as she bent down and helped the young woman into the chair. Turning to Arnold, she told him, "You're a _true_ man to be doing this, Mr. Shortman."

He merely nodded. The young man knew that he needed to be strong for the beautiful, resilient young woman who gave her all, physically and emotionally, to her son over the course of her difficult pregnancy. Helga was now doing _exactly that_ on the largest possible scale, and she could potentially brush with death for doing so.

The compassionate, caring teenager vowed to ensure that Helga would not have to bear such excruciating pain by herself and go through the hardest possible trial known to mankind without any support.

Arnold grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly before allowing his lips to brush its whitened surface.

"A kiss for luck and we're on our way," he said, his voice resolute as he, Helga, and Deanna made their way to a delivery room, ready and waiting for what was to come.

**III**

"Why can't I get an epidural?" Helga whimpered, her voice wracked with misery as her sore, painful body squirmed around within the confines of her small hospital bed. She was hooked to an I.V. and the many machines used to monitor the duration and intensity of her contractions. The young woman wore a long-sleeved, unflattering hospital gown that fit her much too snug against her contracting girth. In her stubbornness, she insisted on wearing her backwards navy blue cap. Arnold, who wore a pair of hospital scrubs and surgical cap of his own, held his hand out to her, which she held onto unyieldingly and squeezed with each successive contraction.

"The hospital anesthesiologist just went into an open heart surgery and needs to stay for its full duration in case something goes wrong with the anesthetic," Deanna informed her as she checked the cardiotocograph. After eyeing the machine for the second time, the nurse remarked, "Your contractions are coming fast and furious, Miss Pataki. I'm going to check you to see how far along you are." Putting a glove onto her right hand, she stated, "You'll feel some pressure."

Helga nodded as the nurse approached the foot of the bed and looked to see where the young woman was dilated. She grimaced as the nurse came upward, ready to reveal how the labor was progressing thus far.

"You're at a six," Deanna told her. "It won't be much longer until you're ready to deliver with the rate of how fast your contractions are coming. Even if you _could_ get an epidural, it wouldn't go into effect until _after_ the baby was out anyway."

The young woman moaned in despair as the nurse left the room to check on another patient. Arnold released his hand from Helga's death grip and massaged her shoulders and back with gentleness, providing whatever comfort he could give to the young woman throughout the insufferable ordeal she faced. After giving Helga a quick peck on the side of the forehead, he returned to her side and resumed holding her hand, only to see that not just her face, but that her lips were also colorless. She held wrestled her hand from Arnold's grip and held it to her stomach. Holding her spare hand up to her mouth, the young woman heaved slightly, but nothing happened.

Turning to face Arnold, she put the hand against her mouth onto her forehead and exhaled slowly before telling Arnold in her weakened state, "_I… I feel like I'm going to be sick."_

Arnold nodded in understanding and replied, "Try to stick your head between your legs, as far as you can go." He placed his hands onto Helga's back as she tried her hardest to put her head downward and place it between her thighs.

Upon noticing that her overlarge stomach blocked her from going much further unless she wanted to be in more pain, the young woman told Arnold desolately, "I can't get my head down that far."

"Just go as far as you can," the young man advised as he grabbed the washcloth that hung from the bed railing. He rushed to the sink and soaked it in cold water. Afterward, he placed the wet cloth on the back of Helga's neck and rubbed her back and shoulders as he offered words of comfort to the young woman. This went on for a long time, but ultimately proved to have no effect as her body began trembling violently. She sat up and stared at the young man, her complexion turning from its earlier blanched color to a languid, greenish shade.

"Arnold," she wailed, both her voice and body shaking, "I… I really – "

His green eyes widened in alarm as the young woman put her hands to her mouth, her blue eyes growing overlarge while she began gagging. He picked up the trashcan next to the bed and kept one arm around her shoulders while using his other hand to hold up the trashcan as the young woman vomited into it. When she finished her unexpected disgorgement, the young man placed the waste bin outside the delivery room and rushed back to Helga's side, reaching out to her as she held her arms out to him.

He enveloped the young woman into his arms and said, as her entire being shuddered, "It's going to be okay, Helga. You're doing _great._" He kissed her on the head and continued holding her. He only went back to holding her hand with reluctance, not wanting to let her go when Deanna returned to check Helga again.

"You're fully dilated," the nurse said. "I"ll page Doctor Warner now."

She left the room to call the obstetrician, leaving both Arnold and Helga feeling anxious and wondering what was going to happen during the actual delivery.

"Are you ready for this?" Arnold asked Helga, giving her hand an extra reassuring squeeze.

The young woman opened her mouth to answer, only to find her voice cut off by Deanna's return, with Doctor Warner dressed in hospital scrubs and a surgical cap of his own, making his entrance into the room. The nurse readied the stirrups and then got a large, blue blanket out from the supply closet. Upon securing the young woman's feet in the foot braces and placing the hospital cover atop her legs, she joined Doctor Warner at the foot of the bed, where he sat positioned to catch the baby when he arrived.

"Helga, I need you to push with the next contraction," the obstetrician instructed. "Breathe in, and then outward, with each push. Do you understand me?"

Helga nodded while she squeezed Arnold's hand tightly as she balled her other hand into a fist. Her hand was clenched so hard, her fingernails pricked the skin and caused it to bleed. The pain became more intense each time she exerted her lower body forward in the hope that her child would soon make his appearance into the world. The impending mother's exhaustion increased with each successive thrust as she longed to only close her eyes, fall asleep, and forget about the anguish she was in. Each time Helga pushed, she took in the air around her and exhaled, grateful for the chance to finally release it. Mere moments of tribulation felt like millions of lifetimes as she shoved the lower half of her body forward, the young woman's entire being quivering in what she perceived to be the most unspeakable torture she ever had to go through. Helga could only find comfort in holding onto Arnold's hand and feeling his loving embrace around her as he helped her press forward each time she was forced to give another push and follow the doctor's orders to continue doing so.

The young woman gulped and twisted her face into a tired grimace, not wanting to continue. She wanted to stop pushing, even as the abject discomfort within her being increased and she could no longer control even her own movements. Over the course of the delivery, Helga found the lower half of her body moving itself forward against her will as she lost charge of its entirety and the motions it took on.

"Helga, you need to push," Doctor Warner told the soon-to-be mother sharply as her body convulsed in pain. The young woman fixed her blue eyes shut, gritted her teeth, and sighed tiredly as she heaved before falling back onto the bed.

"I… I can't do this," she panted, her deep breathes filled with heaviness as her eyes still remained closed, "It's too hard."

Arnold looked at Helga, unable to contemplate what she was going through. He face was drenched with sweat the residue from the hot, salty tears that fell down her cheeks and onto the rest of her perspiring body. When she opened her fatigued blue eyes again, they watered profusely and welcomed even more tears to fall down her ashen face. Her pigtails were slowly coming undone and her hair was messier than ever, hanging loosely around her face.

Arnold squeezed her hand with reassurance and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Helga," he consoled her, "If _anyone_ can do this, it's _you._"

The young woman gave Arnold a weary smile and nodded before she took a deep breath and placed herself into her former sitting position. The agony returned with an increased, intensified force as she pushed, biting down on her lower lip so hard in the process that it bled. Her entire countenance trembled as she gripped Arnold's hand with a secure squeeze while vivid red blood from her lower lip dribbled from its sides, down her chin, and onto her hospital gown. Helga continued gnawing on it as she heaved her body forward yet again, whereupon a muffled sob escaped from her crimsoned mouth.

"He's crowning," Doctor Warner informed Helga as he eyed her from his position at the foot of the bed. Looking downward and then back at the young woman, he added, "Your son has dark hair."

"_Dark hair,"_ Arnold thought, _"Like Sid."_

"You're doing great," Arnold said as he tightened his grip on her hand as a means of concentrating his thoughts back to Helga and away from Sid. "You're almost done."

The young woman moaned with despondence as she continued to push. Her insides felt like they were on fire and the outside of her body felt as though it was burning. The young woman looked around her and found that several, flaming vermilion patches were all over her body, making her ghastly skin hot and aguey. Her eyelids soon became heavy as the excessive heat her body emulated made her want to slip away into a dreamless sleep and escape the purgatory that tormented her body from within.

Arnold kissed her flushed, scarlet cheek and said, "Don't forget to _breathe,_ Helga. You're going to be okay."

"I'm going to have you push on the count of three, Helga," Doctor Warner told her, his tone of voice stern and authoritative. "You need to give me the biggest push you have, alright?"

When the obstetrician finished counting, the young woman put her head down, squeezed her sapphire orbs shut, and heaved so heavily that upon finishing, the young woman gasped for air and fell against her hospital bed with a loud thud.

"Helga, I need another push from you," the doctor said. "Give it everything you've got."

The young woman sighed with exhaustion and nodded as Arnold helped her sit up again. She nodded and squeezed his hand all whilst continuing to chew on her lower lip again, the blood now moving further past the sides of her mouth and onto the lower legions of her face, though her clenched fist was loosened and now covered with the sticky red fluid.

Breathing heavily after the previous push, Helga rested her head against the pillow yet again and exhaled, her body beyond tired, her mental state ready to shut down, and not want to concentrate on anything. However, the young woman knew she had to go on, and after taking a deep breath, sat up again, ready to bring her child into the world.

"_One more push,"_ Doctor Warner commanded the young woman. _"Give it your all."_

"You can do it Helga," Arnold said as he kissed her on the forehead. "You're almost done."

The young woman scowled achingly as she thrust her body forward, only for Doctor Warner to shake his head_._

"_No,"_ he said. _"Nothing."_

Helga gave another shove, but nothing happened.

Doctor Warner leaned back, shook his head again and said, turning to Deanna, _"He's not moving."_

Deanna nodded in understanding and went briskly to the supply closet, where she retrieved a large silver instrument and a pair of medical scissors, which she then handed to Doctor Warner after returning to her position at the foot of the bed.

Arnold's green eyes became enlarged and he felt the color leave his face upon seeing how big the medical instruments the obstetrician held in his hands truly were. His eyes rested on the medical tools and then turned to Helga, who was nearly passed out from exhaustion, her azure eyes drained and trying to stay awake throughout this trial she had to face and her body burnt-out from fatigue. When his own emerald orbs rested on her face, which was pale and bloodied, his heart shattered in two.

"Doctor..." his voice trailed off worriedly, "What's going on?"

"The baby isn't going to move any further Mr. Shortman," Doctor Warner explained to him as he readied the medical scissors. "We need to get him out right away to avoid any possible fetal distress. In doing so, I need to use forceps to deliver the baby quicker and to end the delivery as soon as possible."

Not believing what he just heard, Arnold demanded, his eyes blazing with fury, "_What are the scissors for then?"_

Doctor Warner sighed with heaviness and responded, "They're for an episiotomy. I need to execute _that_ particular procedure to make room for the forceps."

Seeing that Arnold wasn't wholly convinced, Deanna told him, "Mr. Shortman, Helga _really_ needs you right now. Continue to stay by her side. Talk to her and encourage her. _Tell her to push._ As she does so, the doctor will be pulling."

"_Isn't there another way?"_ Arnold questioned angrily. _"There_ _**has**_ _to be something else you can do!"_

"_There_ _**isn't,**__"_ Doctor Warner said. _"The sooner we finish this, the safer it will be for_ _**both**_ _Helga_ _**and**_ _her son."_

At that moment, the barrier broke, and Arnold Shortman broke down.

He cried for Helga and for the fact that she was forced to deliver her child under the most extenuating circumstances. He cried because the young woman he loved was _still_ having her strength tested even though her physical and emotional wellbeing could no longer take it. The young man cried because Helga to sacrifice _so much_ for her son and face the possibility that she would never see the benefits of doing so. He cried because Sid refused to be involved and would _never_ understand the pain that the mother of his child went through and all that she _had,_ and _would _give up.

Arnold cried because he yearned to switch places with Helga and he cried because he would do _anything in his power_ to take the pain away from her and take it upon himself instead.

He cried because he knew it wasn't possible.

Doctor Warner eyed Arnold, held up the scissors and mouthed the words, "_I'm going in now,"_ to him.

The young man nodded through his tears and threw his arms around Helga. She held onto him in spite of her frailty, her grasp on him becoming tighter as she dug her fingernails into him while the obstetrician performed the unendurable, aforesaid medical procedure upon the young woman.

"_Helga, you can do this,"_ Arnold told her as he attempted to keep his voice even. "I _know_ this is _hard,_ but you _have_ to remain strong. _Your child needs to be safe…_ come on, Helga," he said, his voice cracking. _"You can do this Helga, don't let your baby down…"_

When Doctor Warner signaled to Arnold that he completed the episiotomy and that the forceps were finally inside of Helga, the young man nodded. He said to her, "Just keep pushing, Helga. You're _so_ strong. You're _**amazing**_ and _**beautiful**_ _to me._ Only _you_ could do something this wonderful. You're almost done. Please keep it up."

"It's working," Helga heard Doctor Warner say aloud as she continued holding onto Arnold.

The young woman didn't know what was going on, only that there was _so much_ commotion all around her. The insides of her body felt as though they were being split apart in several thousand pieces. It seemed as though something _unnatural_ was within the lower regions of her body, ripping away at something from inside her. She continued pushing all while continuing to hold onto Arnold, the pain growing more severe with each passing minute. Helga felt like she was being torn apart as the noise from all around her grew louder and louder, piercing her ears and drowning out most of her senses, forcing her eyes to remain shut.

Helga's eyes were still closed even when the tumult around her ceased.

The most dreadful silence Helga ever felt filled the room while it seemed as though time stood still. Her grip on Arnold became tighter as more compact as her legs, which now felt heavy and like rocks, were removed from their earlier restraints, lowered, and laid flat upon her hospital bed.

The young woman had no idea what was going on until her blue eyes snapped open when she heard them.

The cries of her newborn son.

His soft, tiny cries echoed throughout the room as she looked up, yearning to get a good look at her baby, only for her eyesight to be blurry. The young woman could only make out the squiggly, warped shapes and colors in front of her, but she could still see even with her hampered eyesight that Deanna had her child at the opposite side of the room, where she cleaned him off, took his measurements, and put together his small footprints. She made two copies; one set was for Helga to keep as a memento, and the other was to go with the birth certificate that would be presented to Kevin and Christine at the official hand-off.

Though Helga knew that she couldn't see anything with her temporarily impaired vision, the young woman refused to shut her eyes even though she was exhausted. The fact that her child was in the same room as her kept her from doing so, and so did Arnold, who now had her wrapped in a loving embrace. His arms were wrapped even tighter around her as he kissed her atop of her head.

"You did _such_ a great job," he comforted the young woman as he bestowed to her a kiss on the lips. "Your son is going to have a good life and he'll be _so_ happy." He looked at her with his green eyes and reassured, "One day, he will thank you for everything you've done for him. I know he will."

She kissed her beloved and leaned back onto the hospital bed, which Arnold lowered at her request. In doing so, she was allowed to lay flat and stretch her back, finally getting some of the rest she craved to have throughout the course of her strenuous labor and delivery.

Arnold still kept his eyes on Helga, fully aware that her child was _alive_ and _living._ He was a separate person from her and he _existed._ The young man grabbed onto her hand as she rested, only to be summoned to the back of the room by both Deanna and Doctor Warner, not knowing what to expect. He released his hold on Helga's hand and met the two medical professionals there, where Deanna held out a pair of scissors for him to take.

"Will you cut the umbilical cord, Mr. Shortman?" she asked him.

The young man nodded as he took the scissors from Deanna's grasp and cut the cord, not knowing what to do afterward. He took a step backward and watched as Deanna wrapped the baby in a small blue blanket before asking,

"Would you like to be the one who brings him to Helga?"

Again, Arnold nodded as the nurse placed the baby into his arms.

"Be sure you support his head," Deanna advised once she was sure that Arnold had a firm hold on the child in his arms. He looked down at Helga's infant son. His eyes were closed and he slept soundly. The child looked _recognizable_, but Arnold couldn't quite tell who he looked like yet. All Arnold knew was that he assisted in the birth of _this child_ even though he didn't biologically belong to him. Despite that, it didn't stop the young man from loving the baby any less and forming a deep connection with him; nor did it change the fact that the young man had been involved in the child's life before he was even born and already played such a substantial part in it.

Helga watched as Arnold walked toward her. Even though her vision was still indistinct and she couldn't quite see what was going on, the young woman knew that her son was coming closer to her. She took a deep breath and held out her arms, knowing that Arnold held the child within his steady embrace.

When he placed the child into her fold and helped support her arms, she smiled widely as tears of gratitude fell down her cheeks.

_She was a mother._

Helga's heart was filled with love, gratitude, and the sense of being overwhelmed. Until now, she had never felt such an outpouring of love as she did at that very moment, being incredibly moved and touched by knowing that she _gave birth_ to her son. She did so without the miracles of modern medicine. The young woman nurtured her son within her womb for the greater course of a year and brought him into the world, doing so at great mortal peril. Yet, she didn't care about the risks.

Tears continued to cloud her vision as she held her child close to her. Ensuring that his soft, baby skin touched her own, she kissed him twice before giving a contented sigh and falling asleep at long last, grateful for this chance and for her son.

**IV**

Arnold, dressed out of the hospital scrubs and surgical cap he wore earlier, sat in a large, blue plush chair next to Helga's hospital bed in her new room. He watched as the new, young mother slept, her hair no longer in pigtails but in loose, chunky waves still covered stubbornly by her trademark, backwards navy blue cap. She slept curled in the fetal position, her hands, one bloodied, and the other cleaned, clasped tightly together and underneath her puffy red face, the lower half of it caked with dried blood. Her breathing was labored, loud, and rhythmic. Her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.

The blonde teenager couldn't stop staring at the young woman who carried her little boy within the confines of her womb for nine long, difficult months filled with despair, heartbreak, and uncertainty. She brought him into the world under the most horrifying circumstances, having been forced to forgo the luxuries that today's medications offered in doing so. Helga labored and delivered her son, knowing that she would have to say goodbye to him.

Surrendering her baby to his adoptive parents was all she could do to ensure that her child would have the good, happy life that she could not provide for him. It still awed Arnold that Helga was willing to give up the child who now encompassed _so much_ of her identity.

She loved him _that_ much.

When Arnold noticed Deanna's tall frame outside the door, he stood from his seat next to Helga's bedside and let the nurse in. She walked into the room, pushing a humidity crib in front of her. The young man looked down and saw Helga's son inside, trying to hold his little head up. He smiled and chuckled at the sight and then looked up at Deanna again.

"Would you like to meet him?" she inquired, taking the baby out of the crib.

"Shouldn't I wake up Helga first?" the young man asked in reply, as he looked at the young woman still in a deep slumber before him, his voice quiet. "She's his mother."

Deanna's gaze turned to Helga momentarily before she looked at Arnold and advised, "Let her rest. She had to go through an _extremely painful_ labor and delivery that I never saw in my seventeen years as a nurse until now."

Arnold's eyes grew bigger upon digesting Deanna's words.

"I think you should meet him," Deanna told Arnold, who nodded. "After all, you've already played a huge role in his life."

The young man blushed slightly and resumed his seat next to Helga's bed, whereupon Deanna placed the baby into his arms. After wheeling the humidity crib next to him, the nurse smiled before she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Arnold looked down, amazed at the small blue bundle he held in his arms. The little baby was a beautiful, striking child even when the young man found that he looked so much like the father who deserted him and his mother. The goodhearted teenager instantly saw the large, round eye shape and thin, straight mouth the child inherited from Sid. Like his father, his hair was dark, but was thick and messy like his mother's. His complexion was a nice, peach color and his nose wasn't large, bulbous, or the most dominant facial feature of his palette like Sid's was. Helga's son didn't inherit her nose either, but rather, it was quite normal and fit the structure of his face perfectly.

"Hey you," he whispered to the baby. "That's your mom right there," he said, indicating to Helga, who still slept next to him. "She loves you more than you'll ever know, but she can't raise you right now. That's why she's giving you to another family. Their names are Kevin and Christine, and they already love you _so_ much. They'll give you everything your mom can't. That's why when you grow up, you need to give her a _big_ hug and tell her _'thank you.'_"

The baby gave a small sneeze and opened his eyes.

They were blue, like Helga's.

"I love you too," Arnold told him, smiling. "Right now you're taking my breath away," he added, taking his pointer finger and tracing it along the baby's face.

Helga's son yawned and grabbed onto Arnold's finger, and refused to let go, causing the young man holding him to smile.

**V**

Helga Pataki woke up to the sound of laughter. Her blue eyes opened with slowness and she smiled once her gaze fell upon Arnold. The young woman smiled as she watched her true love hold and interact with her son while a joyous laughter escaped from his lips.

When Arnold noticed she was awake, he asked, "Would you like to hold him? Your son is a fine-looking boy."

The young woman nodded and eagerly sat up, anxious to get a better look at her child and see who he looked like. She held out her arms to Arnold in anticipation and waited as he placed the baby into her hold. Once he did so, Helga brought him close to her face, only for her smile to turn into a bitter frown. Feelings of sorrow and resentment engulfed her being upon seeing on her son so many of the features and physical traits she grew to despise.

"He looks like Sid," the young woman lamented as she looked down at her new child. "I… I wanted to him to look more like _me,_" she admitted to Arnold, who still sat at her bedside and took in her words, understanding them perfectly.

Helga also saw that her son didn't look like his name should be Paul, though she didn't dare tell her beloved that. At least not yet. The young woman knew it didn't matter, since Kevin and Christine would be the ones to name the child, but the new mother still mourned the fact that she couldn't pay a proper tribute to her true love by using the name because of the twice-aforementioned fact.

"Hey," Arnold said in an attempt to console her as he placed his arm around her shoulders and looked down at her son with her, his expression one filled with love and compassion, "While it's true that he looks like Sid, he's more like _you._" He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before continuing, "He didn't let _anyone_ determine when his birthday was going to be. Plus, he has your eyes."

The young woman laughed as she turned to Arnold and grinned widely. "What a clown!" she exclaimed upon turning her vision toward her baby again. "Of _course_ he would choose to come the day before his induction date!"

Arnold smiled at them both and remarked, "He's going to be a great person just like you, Helga. He'll be an artist and a writer. He'll speak his mind and won't be easily swayed. Your son will be expressive and won't let other people get in the way of what he wants to do. He'll be devoted to those he loves… and _so_ many people will love him too."

The young woman became solemn as she gazed down at her son, amazed that he was _hers._ "You're right," she replied, her voice quiet. Her little boy was finally here, and the young woman had three whole days to spend with him before relinquishing him to Kevin and Christine. Helga had three days to get to know him and she had the privilege of being the first one to figure out his personality. While Helga could never change the fact that her son looked like his father, she knew Arnold was right. The new mother was sure that the child would be more like _her,_ and that fact alone gave her so much peace as she never ceased finding comfort in the fact that Kevin and Christine would love her child for exactly who he was and do all they could to give him a great life.

"_I love you,"_ she told her son as she kissed him and brought the child close to her, allowing for his heart to beat against her own.

As her baby yawned and curled himself into Helga's embrace, she knew, deep down, that he loved her too.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "Give It All" performed by the band He Is We. I also do not own the song lyrics. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	14. What Is Life?

**Chapter XIV: What Is Life?**

_What I feel, I can't say_  
_But my love is there for you anytime of day_  
_But if it's not love that you need_  
_Then I'll try my best to make everything succeed_

_Tell me, what is my life without your love?_  
_Tell me, who am I without you, by my side?_

_What I know, I can do_  
_If I give my love now to everyone like you_  
_But if it's not love that you need_  
_Then I'll try my best to make everything succeed_

_Tell me, what is my life without your love?_  
_Tell me, who am I without you, by my side?_

~George Harrison, "What Is Life?"~

* * *

**I**

Bob Pataki stood at the foot of his youngest daughter's hospital bed, watching as she slept soundly whilst on her side and curled into the fetal position. His new grandson was bundled up in a blue blanket, and he too was in a deep sleep. Despite her heavy slumber, Helga held her little son in the crook of her left arm, using her right to gently embrace him in a small hug.

The older man's attention then turned to the blonde football-headed teenager who sat in the blue plush chair to the left of the hospital bed. His attention never wavered from Helga even after he helped her bring forth her baby into the world. Bob could tell the young man was exhausted even though he would never admit to it. Arnold's expression was serious and his posture was slightly slumped over. Though his emerald orbs were rapt and alert as they remained focused on Helga, Bob saw that they drooped a little bit at the corners. The older man took a deep breath before leaving his place at the end of the bed to stand next to Arnold, who still kept his watchful eyes on his youngest daughter.

His voice throaty and somewhat constrictive, he asked, "So… you drove the hummer here?"

Arnold Shortman looked up, startled. His green eyes grew overlarge with nervousness as he looked up at Bob, his oblong head bobbing up and down with uneasiness.

"It was… it was all there was!" he said, his voice jittery. "I hope you're not mad, Mr. Pataki."

Bob shook his head and replied, "I'm not mad at you, Arnold. You don't need to worry about that." Giving an usually small chuckle, he added, "I'm…_impressed_ you could _drive_ that monstrosity, considering that you only have your learner's permit from… from San Lorenzo, right?"

The young man nodded before turning his attention back to Helga, keeping a caring eye over her.

Placing a large hand onto the teenager's thin shoulder, Bob took a deep, shaky breath and said, "Thank you for being there for my daughter today… and for being good to the rest of my family even though we probably don't deserve it."

Arnold kept his gaze on Helga as he merely nodded, leaving Bob to wonder _why_ the young man sitting next to him did the things he did. It was utterly unfathomable to the new grandfather that a young teenager with numerous prospects would go so far out of his way to help an expectant teenage girl. To do so despite knowing that the child wasn't his was almost _unheard of_ even in modern society. Though times had changed, there was still a stigma that came with committing such an act. Back during the days of Bob Pataki's youth, doing such a thing only brought shame upon the boy's family. It was _never_ considered noble, but was rather seen as an act of stupidity instead. Yet, despite knowing of his daughter's plans to place the baby for adoption, Arnold was still there for her. He refused to let Helga go through such a traumatic ordeal alone. He even stood by her side in the delivery room lending his support, knowing fully well that the child Helga gave birth to _wasn't_ his own. Bob had to lend his highest regards to Arnold for that, also because the mere sight of blood gave made him squeamish. The older man often passed out just by looking at pictures of the substance in his science textbooks during his adolescence, high school science laboratories, and what little time he spent at university in taking scientific general education courses. His phobia of the bodily matter never went away, but only increased over time. It grew to the point where he couldn't even be in the delivery room when Miriam birthed his two daughters.

Bob Pataki had _many_ regrets in life that only seemed to build with age. The fact that he couldn't overcome is own fears to witness the miracle of life was one of them.

Nonetheless, here was this young man who had been dealt a lot of pure crap in his life, helping those who could not help themselves. With shame, Bob admitted to himself that he'd never been good to Arnold and that he was responsible for dealing the young man some of the misfortune he suffered. Calling him "orphan boy", rejecting his creativity for the sake of business by having him build an elaborate parade float just to cover it up, attempting to bribe him into losing the spelling bee to save his own selfish ego, and helping to bring about the near-demise of Hillwood City were just _some_ of the instances that Bob wished he could take back. The older man had never truly been good to Arnold when he dated his daughter, remained friends with her after the break-up, and was willing to support her throughout the latter course of her pregnancy. Yet, Arnold had been there for Helga and her family, and Bob couldn't figure out _why_ until his own azure eyes rested on his youngest daughter.

_They loved each other._

He always suspected that Helga had loved Arnold for a long time. His feelings concerning the matter proved to be true the first time when the two of them came home from their fifth-grade field trip to San Lorenzo five years ago, their hands locked together. The second time was when Helga told him herself last month following their family's meeting with Kevin and Christine, and after the football-headed teenager apologized to his daughter in such a manner that moved both father and daughter to tears. When he squinted, he made out the vibrant, golden chain that held the locket bearing Arnold's likeness hidden beneath her green hospital gown. Despite their courtship, it never even crossed Bob's mind that Arnold could actually _love_ his daughter. When looking back on his own shameful behavior, he confessed to himself that he had the _hardest_ time loving Helga. It was because she was too much like him – brash, loud, stubborn, tenacious, and unafraid to speak her mind in defiance of the consequences. Still, his youngest daughter was soft and delicate, expressive and romantic. The young woman was a _true_ dreamer and idealist when she allowed herself to tear down the walls that barricaded her feelings. She could be feminine and beautiful when she wanted to be, and in many ways, her pregnancy brought out _a lot_ of that. The pregnancy had been a refining experience for both Helga and Arnold, their love growing only stronger because of it despite the hardships they faced.

Arnold knew what Helga's flaws were, but never saw her as a pregnant fifteen-year-old. He saw her and treated her as the girl he used to know and still loved her in spite of the obvious shortcomings.

Bob knew it took a lot for the young man to love Helga in such a way, but he would always be grateful. He would always appreciate the fact that Arnold loved Helga like that, and taught him to as well, not through words, but actions.

His eyes wandered toward the digital clock that stood on the higher end of the right wall. When Bob saw how late it was, he said, "It's pretty close to midnight, Kid."

Taking a deep breath, Arnold asked, "What time is it?"

"10:15," Bob responded, his voice coarse. "You should get some rest, Arnold. You look _exhausted_… being here all day."

After yawning and stretching his arms upward, the young man stood up and said, handing Bob a set of keys, "I'm _really_ lucky I didn't crash this, Sir."

"_Damn right you are,"_ Bob laughed quietly. "Even so… I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you enough for what you've done for my daughter."

"Don't thank me," Arnold responded as he headed out the door. Turning to face him again and letting his peridot eyes rest on Helga and her son one final time before leaving, he said, "Goodnight, Mr. Pataki."

Bob watched the young man leave before sitting in the chair he once occupied. Admittedly, he hadn't been at the hospital for very long. Along with Miriam and Olga, the three of them had only just arrived thirty minutes ago. Olga's dress rehearsal ended up being much longer than originally planned, and being inside the theatre required Bob and Miriam to have all their electronic equipment turned off. Though Bob was proud of Olga and her success in landing one of the lead roles in _Rats_, the musical itself bored the man to tears. Throughout the long rehearsal, both he and Miriam found themselves drifting off to sleep, only to be woken up by a frantic Olga. With watery mascara in the form of tears running down her face and still in her elaborate costume, she told her mother and father that the practice showing was _finally_ over. After bursting into loud, uncontrollable cries, she wondered aloud if her parents truly _liked_ the musical, seeing as they'd fallen asleep during it.

Miriam, knowing that she needed to comfort her oldest daughter, accompanied her to the dressing room while Bob scanned the large theatre to see if he could use his Blackberry without any of the strict technicians or theatre ushers seeing him. To the man's surprise, he had several missed calls from the home phone, along with a number he didn't recognize. He dialed the number to his voicemail and listened with a curiosity rarely found in him, his blue eyes widening as he listened to the messages.

They were all from Arnold, informing him that Helga was in labor. In each of the messages, he requested that Bob, Miriam, and Olga get to the hospital as soon as possible.

However, the final voicemail from Arnold was sent at 6:55 that evening, informing him that at 6:48 P.M., he became a grandfather for the very first time.

At that moment, Bob stood up from his seat and ran to Olga's dressing room, finding that his youngest daughter was still inconsolable. Nonetheless, with tears in his eyes, he told his wife that she was a grandmother and his oldest daughter that she was now an aunt. The pronouncement came as a total shock to the three of them, since Helga's most recent appointment with Doctor Warner the previous day showed _no_ signs of progression. Helga's original induction date was still in force, and neither of them had expected her to go into labor before then.

When Olga had calmed down at last, the three of them left the Big Apple for Hillwood, braving that city's traffic along with that of Brooklyn and Queens in order to reach the hospital. Upon arriving there after sitting in a bumper-to-bumper gridlock on the freeways they had to pass, the three of them _finally_ reached the hospital, only to find that both Helga and her newborn baby were in a deep repose as Arnold Shortman looked on. Knowing that the new mother wouldn't be released from the hospital until after the official hand-off would take place in just three day's time, Miriam took the opportunity to sign both she and Bob in at the front desk. They would both stay with her at the hospital during that time. In the interim, she took the opportunity to drive home and pack together all the necessities she and Bob would need whilst staying there before her return. Olga, who had rehearsal early the next morning, went home as well, but promised to see if she could get off early to join the rest of her family at the hospital later on.

Despite knowing that the circumstances were beyond his control, the new grandfather couldn't help but feel remorseful for not being there when his new grandson was born. In fact, he looked back on the days of Helga's pregnancy with regret, anguished over the fact that he didn't step up until it was too late.

Reminiscing over the actions that were committed over the past several months, it soon hit Bob Pataki that _he_ was part of the reason why Helga was giving up her firstborn child for others to raise. It was his anger, deliberate negligence, poor attitude, and even the manner in which he sometimes ridiculed his youngest daughter that all served as pivotal factors in her decision.

Would _this_, the fact that Bob wasn't there for the arrival, only add to the possible disinterest his grandson would likely develop in him as he grew up?

Bob sighed deeply as he put his head in his hands. Helga and the baby still remained in their deep sleep while his mind continuously replayed all the past deeds he committed, feeling nothing but profound shame for what he had done.

The sorrowful man looked up in utter alarm when he heard the quiet knockings on the hospital room door. He stood up, answered the egress, and found himself facing a young doctor with wavy auburn hair, a strong build, with a stethoscope around his neck and hospital tags bearing his likeness. His name was Augustus Warner, and he looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

"Are you Helga's father?" the practitioner inquired as his amber eyes surveyed Bob knowingly.

"I am," Bob nodded. "You seem tired."

The man standing across from the new grandfather gave him a wane smile before holding out his hand and introducing himself.

"I'm Doctor Augustus Warner, Mr. Pataki. I delivered your grandson earlier this evening. Now that you and your wife are here, would it be possible for me to have an audience with the two of you concerning a few things?"

"Actually…. my – my wife isn't here at the moment," Bob said. "But I… I don't see why we couldn't meet together," he added. The man turned back to look at Helga and her son before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him, and following the obstetrician to his downstairs office, decorated in neutral tones of dark brown and beige.

After the two of them sat down, Doctor Warner opened a manila folder on his desk, which contained the records of Helga's pregnancy, labor and delivery, and her hospital visits. To Bob's surprise, the stack of papers was very thick and from what he saw, were documented in great detail.

"At 6:48 P.M. this evening, your grandson was born," Doctor Warner told Bob, handing him a photograph. "He weighed seven pounds, fifteen ounces, and measured in at twenty-three inches in length. His Apgar score, along with his hearing and vision tests, came back with _unusually_ near-perfect results. Typically, babies of teenage mothers receive poor marks on these tests." After exhaling, the obstetrician added, "Unlike Helga, most teenage mothers aren't that fortunate when it comes to carrying and birthing an infant. Many of them are born prematurely, have a low birth weight, and a myriad of physical and mental problems that have clearly passed _your_ grandchild by."

Bob nodded, not mentioning that he already knew the time in which he became a grandfather, having already been informed of it by Arnold. Though the man was grateful for his grandson's health, he looked at the photograph, not quite knowing what to think. He didn't get the best look at him while in the hospital room since Helga held the child close to her as they both slept. However, now that he had the opportunity to see his first grandchild in greater detail through the four-by-six image he held in his hands, all he saw was _Sid._

"Are you all right, Mr. Pataki?" Doctor Warner inquired, his hands clasped and positioned steadily on his desk. "I understand that this must be a lot for you to take in."

"It… it is," Bob admitted, holding up the photograph and gesturing to it. "He looks _so_ much like the father… that _**scumbag**_ who abandoned my daughter, it's frightening. I'm just glad he didn't inherit the monster's gigantic nose!"

Doctor Warner laughed slightly and remarked, "It was hard for Helga to take in as well, and that's perfectly understandable. She never liked talking about the father of her child during her visits with me. However, it doesn't mean that she loves her son any less, Mr. Pataki."

After a brief pause, the practitioner resumed speaking.

"Your daughter is in for an _extremely_ _long_ recovery… both in physical _and _emotional aspects."

Bob's face became crestfallen as he stared at the doctor and asked, _"How… how do you mean?"_

"Helga's labor and delivery was... rather complicated," Doctor Warner informed him while he leaned back into his seat and released a deep breath from within. "She breathed through her contractions and gave birth naturally without the aid of an epidural or a spinal block."

"_**You're kidding me,"**_ Bob growled with lividness as his large body pulsated with rage. _"You actually_ _**made**_ _her go through that kind of_ _**torture**_ _without any pain medication?"_

"I'm very sorry about that Mr. Pataki," Doctor Warner apologized. "The hospital anesthesiologist had to go into an open heart surgery just before Helga and Arnold arrived. I assure you that the medical staff would've made those options available to her had the anesthesiologist been there to provide them."

Bob put a hand to his forehead and rubbed his temples vigorously. He couldn't begin to _fathom_ what his child went through that day, everything she sacrificed, and all the _bullshit_ he dealt to her during the pregnancy. It made him want to tape Doctor Warner's mouth shut. This was because while the obstetrician continued explaining the additional complexities that surrounded Helga's child birthing experience, from the vomiting to the medical tools needed that surely wreaked excessive havoc on his daughter's body, all Bob would think about was how much of an asshole he truly was. He was the person who wanted Helga to kill her own son and who planned on throwing them both out when she refused. He told her that she was on her own, ignored the turmoil that morning sickness and oftentimes agonizing physical changes her body was wrought with, and mocked her love for Arnold.

Worst of all, the man proved that he was full of crap when he objected to Helga's adoption plans and acted like a complete imbecile in front of the people who were selected to raise his grandson.

"I know it isn't easy for you to hear this," Doctor Warner said, his voice quiet. "Nonetheless, it's important for you to understand so that you'll be able to help Helga in her recovery. Right now, her I.V. has anti-nausea medicine, some painkillers, and a medication that should... _hopefully_ halt her milk production and _maybe_ even prevent it from starting at all."

Bob's breath caught in his throat as he took in everything the doctor said whilst he began scribbling on a prescription notepad.

"Since I needed to perform an episiotomy and use forceps to aid in the delivery, Helga's body will need to recover from _both_ of the procedures," the obstetrician said, ripping the form off the stack and handing it to Bob. "Due to the severity of the tears and the amount of stitches needed, it'll take _at least_ twelve weeks, perhaps longer, before your daughter makes a full recovery. She cannot perform _any_ physical activity during this time, with the exception of light walking and restroom usage. If Helga plans on beginning the school year with the rest of her class, she won't be able to participate in the Physical Education courses offered during the first semester and possibly her second as well."

"_Sweet Mother of God,"_ Bob muttered as his azure eyes surveyed the medical prescription in front of him. _"This is only the beginning, isn't it?"_

"Concerning your daughter's physical recovery, you and your wife should ensure that she gets a lot of rest and doesn't strain herself," Doctor Warner said, his voice filled with seriousness. "I know Helga might have other plans, but it could be wise to look into homeschooling for her first semester, just to she'll get all the rest needed to help in her rehabilitation."

"Helga won't want to do that," Bob sighed, shaking his head. "She'll want to keep busy and make sure her mind doesn't think too much about the adoption." After eyeing Doctor Warner, the man added, "I saw the posters for counseling sessions on the bulletin board when I came in today. My daughter's been seeing a counselor twice a week since she was nine and has had additional sessions with her psychologist since becoming pregnant. You're not going to suggest that she see _another_ shrink, are you?"

Doctor Warner said, "Helga should continue seeing her psychologist. I can see how that would be very helpful. However, the hospital also offers a support group for birthmothers." Upon seeing that Bob Pataki's facial expression became suspicious, the obstetrician remarked, "Helga doesn't _have_ to attend the sessions, but it might be beneficial to her to talk with people who've placed their children for adoption and know what it's like to go through that process. Your daughter already has an increased risk of postpartum depression due to her young age and it's possible the relinquishment of her son would only prove to be a contributing factor."

Bob put his hands to his face and breathed deeply before turning his attention toward the obstetrician again. Once again, the new grandfather found that he didn't know what to think.

"Mr. Pataki," Doctor Warner began gravely, "This pregnancy was very hard on your daughter in _all_ aspects. Because the recuperation will be very long, it's imperative that you be there for her. It will be _quite a while_ before Helga will be able to handle both the physical and emotional tolls of another pregnancy. You and your wife should _not_ be neglecting your child concerning this."

"_What… what am I supposed to_ _**do?**__" Bob_ demanded, his voice cracking. "I… I feel so _inadequate._ I've been a _horrible_ father and I didn't support Helga the way I should have when she was pregnant. Now you're telling me that her road to recovery is going to be filled with all these… _these roadblocks,_ and I… _I just_ _**don't know**_ _how to help her or make it all better!"_

The practitioner stood up from his place at the desk and put a hand onto the man's despondent shoulder. When the man looked up, he responded, "You need to keep doing the job you haven't been doing until now. Helga _needs you_ more than ever, Mr. Pataki. Let her know that she has your support. Be involved and have her know that she is loved. Sometimes… you don't have to say anything; just let her know that you're there for her."

Bob nodded stoically and stood up. This time, he held out his hand for the doctor to shake.

"Thank you," he said, "For everything."

After Doctor Warner bade him goodnight, Bob left the office, made the ascent upstairs, and returned to Helga's hospital room. He found his daughter and grandson in the same position as before. His wife sat in a soft, cream-colored chair provided by the hospital staff positioned in the right corner of the room.

Miriam was dressed in her pajamas and was ready for bed.

"_Hey,"_ she whispered. _"How did you visit with Doctor Warner go?"_

Bob took a deep breath and said, "I… I don't really know how to explain it, Miriam. You should probably make an appointment to see him tomorrow."

Turning his attention toward Helga and the baby, he queried, "Were they sleeping the entire time I was gone?"

"No," Miriam yawned, "The nurse took the baby out to feed, bathe, and change him. Helga waited up while he was gone and let me hold him before going back to sleep." After a brief pause, she remarked, "Bob… he's a _beautiful_ child. I already see some of Helga's personality in him."

"_How? He looks like_ _**Sid,**__"_ Bob commented, holding up the photograph Doctor Warner gave him. _"You mark my words, Miriam. When I get my hands on that Gifaldi brat, I'm going to_ _**wring his neck.**_ _How_ _**dare**_ _he do this to our daughter, abandoning her the way that he did, and making her go through this without_ _**any**_ _of his help?"_

"I guess you'll see how your grandson is like Helga when you have the chance to hold him," Miriam replied as she shrugged her shoulders. "We've both had a long day today, and you look like you need some rest, Bob. We can talk more about how Sid fits into this once we've gotten some sleep, alright?"

The man rolled his eyes and resumed his seat in the chair next to Helga's hospital bed. He watched his daughter and grandson in their dormancy until sleep overcame him. He soon found himself awakened by her stirrings as Helga groaned and moved about in her bed while still in between two different consciousnesses.

Bob got up from his chair and stood over his daughter, gently placing a hand onto her forehead and another one on her right arm. He watched as she shifted about in her sleep, debating over whether or not she should wake up.

"_Helga,"_ Bob said, his voice soft, _"Can you hear me?"_

His daughter contorted her face into a grimace as she blinked her cobalt eyes rapidly, not quite knowing what was going on.

"_What's – what going on?"_ she asked sleepily. _"Who's there?"_

"It's your father," Bob whispered. "I heard you were _extraordinary_ in there… in the delivery room."

The young woman moaned and opened her eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath as she looked up at him.

"_Hi,"_ she said, her voice wobbling and filled with exhaustion. Helga's body trembled as she curled her body into the fetal position underneath the bedcovers in an effort to keep warm. When Bob saw his daughter shivering, and that her teeth chattered as a result of the cold she felt, he retrieved an additional blanket from the supply closet in the room and put it over his daughter.

"Is that better?" he questioned as he positioned the blankets to his daughter's comfort. He put a hand back to her head and added, "How are you feeling?"

"_I feel dead,"_ she responded, using an unsteady finger to caress her son's face. _"__**He**_ _makes up for it, though."_ The new mother revealed a small smile and kissed her baby on the cheek. _"He was worth all the pain in the world."_

Bob focused his attention onto the sleeping baby in Helga's embrace, watching as he continued his slumber. The new grandfather contemplated how hard it must've been for Helga to see just how much her son resembled Sid. He couldn't' begin to even understand how devastating it was for his daughter. Not only did the young woman give herself to someone she never truly loved in the first place, but she was also left to face the consequences virtually by herself. Only adding to the heartache was the knowledge that Helga sacrificed _so much_ for her child, only to have him remind her of the _one person_ who brought about all the sorrow in the first place. For a fleeting moment, Bob wondered how it could be _possible_ for Helga to love her baby when he looked so much like Sid. In his shame, the holder man found himself admitting all over again that he sometimes found it difficult to love or show affection for Helga because they were _so_ much alike. However, the man also realized and gained a greater knowledge with each moment he spent with his daughter and grandson that love was _never_ convenient or easy.

Helga always loved Arnold even when it often seemed that he never returned her affections, never letting go of it even when he dated other girls and harbored feelings for other young women. At times, Bob was even a witness to the moments where the young mother gave up her own wants and the acceptance of her own father for Arnold's benefit. She did so by purposely losing the fourth grade spelling bee and telling her beloved's grandfather where his weak spot was during the Parent's Weekend Tournament Gelatin Joust. His youngest daughter was doing so again in sacrificing the desire to keep her son and choosing to place him with another couple she found better fit to raise him. She did so for his betterment. Helga still loved him despite the prominent resemblance she shared with the person who deserted them both.

That was the moment when Bob Pataki _finally_ grasped what _true_ love was.

It meant putting the needs of the other person first, even if it meant that the blessings for doing so would never be obtained. Genuine, unfaltering love was willingly facing the repercussions, no matter how horrible they were. It not only meant sacrificing dreams, hopes, needs, and wants if necessary, but to _really_ love someone meant loving him or her even when it was hard to do so.

The realization made the man realize how far behind he was and how much further ahead Helga was in comprehending the timeless concept. However, it also produced in him a motivation to catch up and never lose sight of it. Bob had a long way to go, but was willing to start despite his age.

Looking to his daughter, Bob asked, "Can… can I hold him?"

The young woman gave a tired yawn before nodding to her father, who helped her sit up as she repositioned the firm hold she had on her son. Once Helga was in the upright position, she handed the baby to her father and watched as he held him close.

Bob grinned widely as he fixed his gaze on his new grandson. The child's eyes were like his mother's – vibrant sapphires filled with curiosity, wonder, and an eagerness to explore the world and all its inhabitants. Bob already found himself sensing a _true_ sense of strength pulsating from within the infant he held in his arms. He was in complete amazement of this child, whose mother possessed a beauty, maturity, and true sense of depth that was rarely found in others. She was creative, intelligent, and well spoken. Bob had no doubt that his grandson, _this baby,_ would inherit these same traits and lead a good life because of the selflessness of the young woman who bore him.

"You… you did good," Bob told his daughter as he turned around to face her. "He's amazing, Helga."

Helga eyed Bob with a quizzical brow and inquired, "Do you really think so? I thought you would just… blow him off because he looks so much like Sid," she confessed whilst her face turned crimson from embarrassment.

"_Never,"_ Bob reassured his daughter as he handed the baby back to Helga.

After sitting on his daughter's bed so he started into the azure orbs that mirrored his own, Bob said, "I've failed you as a father, Helga. For too long, I have tried to make you into someone you're not. I never accepted you for who you are, and there is no excuse for that. I've been neglectful and I left you on your own when you needed me most…" The man paused, letting the silence come between him and Helga momentarily before he spoke again, his voice weighed down with remorse, "I… I know things are going to be hard. You're going through with a very tough decision that most people are incapable of fully understanding... Helga, I know it doesn't seem like it, but I could never imagine how different my life would be without you in it." He shook his head and added, "You're doing something truly remarkable… something that _I_ could _**never**_ do when I was your age… but I want you to know that I'm going to be here for you. I… I know I didn't do a good job in the past, but I want to change that. I might not be able to do a whole lot, but I want to help you."

"_Dad!"_ Helga cried out, her voice attempting to hide her tears, "I – I appreciate you wanting to help me, I really do… but… I'm not _anything_ special."

Bob's face hardened into a serious expression as he replied, _"__**Yes you are!**_ _Your son is too, and I don't want to hear you say otherwise or for you to even_ _**think**_ _any different__**. I also want you to ignore all the fucking naysayers who'll tell you that only lazy people who don't want to take responsibility for their actions put their babies up for adoption.**_ _The opposite is true. You're doing the right thing by giving your child to a couple who will not only love him, but who are also in the best position to take care of him."_

Not knowing what else to say, Helga only stared up at her father.

"Thanks… Dad," she exhaled slowly.

"You know," Bob said, "Just because the baby looks like Sid, it doesn't mean he'll be like him too." He gave his daughter and grandson a minute smile as he stroked his grandson's cheek. He added, "I have the feeling that he's going to be more like _you._"

Helga returned the smile as they continued to look upon her new son in amazement, cherishing what little time she had before handing him to Kevin and Christine. In all his years of being married and a father, Bob only now grasped what it meant to love someone with all the realness of heart.

But even then, the understanding continued.

**II**

In the days following her son's birth, Helga found that the three days she had to spend with him were filled with peace and tranquility.

The new mother followed Doctor Warner's orders to get plenty of relaxation with staunch obedience, and spent much of her time resting and catching up on much-needed sleep. This, along with the calmness the young woman experienced, proved itself advantageous because the recuperation from the hellish labor and delivery already proved to be strenuous. Helga soon found that she needed help accomplishing what were once menial tasks such as getting in and out of bed when needed, using the restroom, moving her body into either a sitting position or onto her back, and keeping her body's volatile movements in control. This made the young woman feel helpless and inept. Yet in spite of it all, people were all around her to make everything better and help the teenager assuage her physical and emotional pain.

It only took one look at her _**perfect,**_ _amazing_ little boy to help Helga forget about both the bodily and mental torment she was in. She loved holding her new child and taking in his newborn essence, knowing that the moments of tranquil solitude she shared with him wouldn't last for much longer. Helga frequently found herself caressing his tiny face, stroking his dark hair, and showering her little one with kisses, taking in his real, tangible existence whenever the were together. It made him even more apart of her, and she, him. The young woman kept her son's small hands inside her own larger ones and was always moved to tears whenever he grasped her fingers and refused to let go. She held up his precious baby feet in complete wonderment and touched each of his little toes, _completely astounded_ that he was so tiny compared to her and those who held him. Yet, he was still so much bigger than herself. The new mother's amazement never ceased that _**this**_ _baby,_ _**this little boy,**_ comprised so much of who she was, and that she loved him more than words could _ever_ describe.

Aside from her unnamed son, Helga knew that she would be forever grateful to Arnold. He helped both her and the baby throughout the later course of her pregnancy, the labor and delivery, and even afterwards, despite not being obligated to do so. Save for her immediate family, Arnold was Helga's most frequent hospital visitor, and it didn't surprise the young woman that her child warmed up to him whenever he was in the room. The day after the birth, his parents came in to see Helga and her son. She was blessed with knowing that Miles and Stella would never judge her. They supported her decision to place her child for adoption without hesitation and were curious to know more about his new parents. After hearing about how much the young woman enjoyed reading the works of Dave Eggers from Arnold, the presented her with his complete bibliography and bought another set for her son as well. Phil and Gertie also visited, and Helga soon found that she appreciated their unconventional sense of humor and the laughs they provided her. Arnold's grandparents sensed that the young teenager would find herself in dire need of them in the months ahead, and this act of care left the new mother greatly humbled.

Helga smiled, holding her son close to her as she looked all around the hospital room, amazed at all the gifts she received from those who visited both her and her child. To stat, Whitney was the first of these visitors, coming with her camera in hand. She insisted on taking pictures of Helga and the baby for the new mother to have as a keepsake to look back on and treasure in the years to come. In addition, Whitney also edited the photographs, developed them, and placed them in an autograph album for safekeeping. Her friend's family also sent their congratulations, doing so courtesy of a bouquet of tropical flowers and numerous boxes of treats from the Honolulu Cookie Company. To the young woman's amusement, her father indulged on the confectionary treats more than she did, but couldn't deny herself of the delicious sweets, either.

Gerald and Phoebe visited Helga often. The blonde adolescent wasn't surprised to see that her close friend got her son an obscene amount of Baby Einstein memorabilia and couldn't resist laughing out loud when she saw that Gerald ordered an old copy of _Cool Moves For Happenin' Dudes_ from Amazon. Despite the uncontrollable sniggers that emitted from Arnold, Helga, and Phoebe's mouths, Gerald wouldn't stop insisting that the baby would grow up to become "a happenin' dude" by taking the instructions in the book to heart. Meanwhile, Curly and Rhonda stopped by not just with gifts, but also with the revelation that the two of them were dating. While Curly bestowed upon Helga's child an array of stuffed animals with a tiger striped pattern, his fashionista girlfriend gave him numerous shopping bags filled with baby boy clothes from ZARA. The ever "haute couture" dresser insisted that Helga's son would get the ladies with a smart sense of style as opposed to advice from a self-help book written in the seventies, and insisted that he get a head start pertaining to all things fashionable.

At one point during Helga's hospital stay, Iggy visited and gave the baby a pair of bunny pajamas, which sent everyone (Arnold included) into a fit of laughter when she opened the gift. To her surprise, a deliveryman came up to her room, asking that the young woman sign for a package. Inside was a card from Brainy and a pair of miniature boxing gloves, which the new mother found to be epically hilarious. Helga received other hospital visitors as well, such as her classmates Lila, Stinky, Harold, Nadine, and Eugene. Mr. Simmons even came by to send his regards, and Rosemary checked on Helga, informing her that Kevin and Christine had been contacted about the baby's birth. They were happy to hear that both she and the child were doing well and looked forward to seeing her again; and despite being in the hospital, Helga still wanted to see Doctor Bliss. The young woman was thrilled when the compassionate psychologist paid both she and her son a visit.

Helga's mother and father both took additional time off from work to be there for her and ensure that she was comfortable. They kept her entertained and did their best to help their daughter enjoy the three days she had to spend with her son. Olga, when she wasn't busy with her numerous dress rehearsals, stayed with her family and couldn't get enough of her little nephew. To Helga's surprise, Olga compiled two thick volumes filled with pictures and a written, detailed history of the new mother's life before, during, and even after her pregnancy. The books chronicled Helga and Sid's histories, explaining that the two of them grew up together and were in the same classes throughout their schooling. Several photographs of the two of them, from their elementary school days in Mr. Simmons' class to a sepia toned photograph of them with their arms around each other as a token sign of friendship taken just before Helga fell pregnant, were present in both of the albums.

Next, photographs from the pregnancy and copies of the ultrasounds were documented. To Helga's amusement, she saw that her older sister somehow found the time to develop the pictures the young woman took of her growing belly in front of the large full-body mirror inside her room, the camera often obscuring her face. With more clarity, the teenager saw how fast her abdomen actually _grew_ over the course of her pregnancy_._ In the final stomach shot taken just before she went into labor, Helga was so large that she had to stand on the tips of her toes to keep from falling over. Other pictures taken during her son's gestation included moments spent with Slausen's with Whitney, pictures of her with Phoebe, a shot of her with Doctor Bliss, and towards the end of that particular section, there were photographs of her with Kevin and Christine at the first initial meeting. In addition, there was also a family picture taken during Helga's sixth month of pregnancy, after Olga had been cast in the Broadway revival of _Rats._ To the adolescent's horror, the picture showed Olga and her parents with their arms around each other smiling at the camera whilst she stood in the corner, her arms folded and her stomach already humongous, looking bored out of her mind and utterly miserable. However, what made up for it was that most of the images were of her and Arnold spending time together. One photograph that particularly moved her was in tinted in black and white, showing Arnold and Helga sitting on the front steps of the Sunset Arms just after their reconciliation. Their eyes were fixed on each other lovingly as Arnold's hands rested on her engorged stomach while she kept hers on top of his.

The following section chronicled Helga's labor and delivery, which showed Arnold helping the new mother and being her support system during that time. Images of her newborn son, Arnold cutting the umbilical cord, and of him placing the baby into Helga's arms unfolded themselves to the young woman who absorbed the photographs in front of her. A few pictures showed Arnold, Helga, and her son with Doctor Warner and Deanna. Other shots showed Arnold holding the baby, along with pictures of Helga taking in her child's newborn essence. One photograph that nearly moved Helga to tears was also shot in black and white and showed her little boy swaddled in blankets laying on the hospital bed, where he firmly held onto Arnold's hand.

The final part of the album recorded the many people who came to visit Helga and the baby. Many photographs were taken of her son with Arnold's parents and grandparents, Whitney, Gerald and Phoebe, Curly and Rhonda, Lila, Stinky, Eugene, Iggy, Harold, Nadine, Mr. Simmons, Rosemary, Doctor Bliss, and Helga's family. When Helga got to the back of the album, she noticed that there were a few blank pages.

Flipping them back and forth, she inquired, "What are these for?"

Olga hesitated before responding, "The supplementary pages are there in the event that Sid were to come and see his son."

Bob folded his arms and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling at Olga's naïve idealism as Helga snorted, partly amused that her sister sounded so professional while giving her explanation, wondering why she went through so much trouble to make _two_ copies of the exact same book.

"Don't hold your breath," Helga muttered, shutting the thick volume closed. Staring at her sibling, she said truthfully, "These are _very beautiful_ books, Olga. I… I'm _really touched_ that you took the time and made all this effort for me… but why did you make two of them?"

The older of the two Pataki sisters smiled at Helga and answered, "One of the books is for you and the other one is for your son. I had a lot of help from my co-stars and the crew in developing the pictures and getting everything organized, but I did the rest. If you look at the back cover, you'll see that we all signed it."

Swallowing the gigantic lump in her throat, the new mother turned to the back cover of the two books. With tears in her blue eyes as they coursed down her flushed, ashen cheeks, she poured over the signatures in front of her. The first volume, the one she looked at read, _"To Helga, for doing something truly amazing. You're going to be great."_

The second was addressed to Baby Boy Pataki. The message read, _"Kid, you'll move mountains."_

Putting a hand over her mouth whilst shutting her eyes, Helga cried genuine tears of gratitude for all the good deeds done in behalf of her and her son. The young woman knew she would never be able to fully thank the people who helped her during the most trying period of her life. Helga knew that these people didn't lend their aid out of pity or duty, but because they truly cared about her and the baby, only wanting what was best for them. She would be eternally grateful to them – for Arnold, not just for loving her unconditionally, but because he never judged her; Kevin and Christine, for their willingness to adopt her son, love him, and enable him to grow up in a stable environment where he would be well taken care of; Doctor Bliss, for always lending a listening ear; Whitney and Helga for their friendship; Rosemary, for ensuring that everything pertaining to the adoption was going smoothly, and she even found herself feeling appreciative of her family, the work they never ceased putting in towards their redemption, and their sincere efforts in trying to be better. There were several other people Helga would feel indebted to even as her life continued on, but she would always hold a special place in her heart for the people who helped her when she needed it most.

Wiping her eyes with the handkerchief formerly folded and positioned on the nightstand to the left, Helga looked at her mother and asked, "Can I hold my son, please?"

Miriam nodded and stood up from her seat, keeping her first grandchild close to her before placing him in his mother's arms. Helga smiled down at him with bitter sweetness; tomorrow was September second, the last day Helga had left to spend with her son before the official hand-off, and the teenager found that time was running out on her. In just two days time, she would say goodbye to her son for either eighteen years or the rest of her life and the fact was so much to take in.

Hugging him tightly, Helga vowed to enjoy every last moment she had left with him. Eyeing the worn paperback book on the dresser Arnold brought over for her after she forgot it after going into labor unexpectedly, the young woman grabbed her copy of _The Way We Live Now_ and began reading aloud from _their_ favorite book, picking up from where they left off.

**III**

Sid Gifaldi woke up late on the morning of September second, finding himself home alone. After showering, dressing in a pair of fitted green skinny jeans and black shirt he found on his bedroom floor, the teenager ran a hand through his shortened raven locks. He donned his favorite green hat, placed his cell phone and wallet in his pockets, and walked out the door. Putting on his miniature ear buds, Sid pushed the play button on his iPod and began walking. As the music filled his ears, ranging from an eclectic mix of holiday tunes, George Harrison, The New York Dolls, AC/DC, and Radiohead, the young man made his way throughout Hillwood City, grateful to have some solitude at last.

True to their word, his aunt and uncle from Monterey came to visit him and his parents. They arrived last week and did everything possible to keep Sid occupied while his mother and father were at work, whereupon they joined the three of them during the evenings. The young man's parents still didn't have a whole lot, but continued sensing that all was not right with their child. Seeing that Sid was close to his Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora, perhaps his parents hoped that they would help him unload any emotional baggage he held inside himself. Though the adolescent knew his family meant well, he found it frustrating that his aunt and uncle kept prying him for information when it was obvious that he didn't feel like sharing.

The young man never felt that he was being spiteful by keeping his life's details hidden from his family. Despite knowing that he should come clean about what had happened between him and Helga, Sid had _no_ idea how to do it. Telling his parents that he impregnated the daughter of the one man his father couldn't stand was _no_ laughing matter and would not only land him in a world filled with restrictions, but would certainly contribute to the guilt he already felt. He always knew that what he'd done was wrong and that there was _no_ excuse for it. Despite the hurt suffered from Helga, the circumstances called for him to rise above victim status, and he only proved himself incapable of such a calling through his refusal to be involved and the shameful actions he committed on the Fourth of July. At the same time though, Sid marveled at how his parents had no idea pertaining to what had happened. Though they both worked long hours in different cities in an attempt to rebuild their long-lost savings, the irresponsible teenager wondered how his parents couldn't put the pieces together, especially since a lot of other people knew of the unforgivable actions he committed. However, as the Hillwood Hospital came into his view, the knowledge of what needed to be done returned to him.

It was time to go back.

The time had come for Sid to apologize, put the past behind him, _grow up,_ and move forward with his life.

The waiting period was _over_.

Sid took a deep, nervous breath as he turned off his iPod, removed his ear buds, and ascended the steps of the Hillwood Hospital. After placing his iPod into the front left pocket of his jeans, the young man's brown eyes scanned the information sign by the front reception desk. It listed the various floors of the hospital, informing him that he would have to take an elevator to the sixth story to reach the maternity ward. Upon exhaling slowly, Sid walked to the first elevator on the left and pressed the up button with a trembling pointer finger. Almost instantly, the elevator reached the bottom floor and opened its doors, signaling for the teenager to step inside. The upward journey to the maternity floor seemed to take an eternity since the elevator stopped at _every single floor._ Sid paid awkward congratulations to a new father who carried a set of blue balloons and bouquet of flowers for his wife who got onto the traveling elevator on the third story. When the two of them parted ways after reaching the maternity ward and stepping off the elevator, the young teenager found himself standing in front of the holding nursery. His mouth completely ajar and his eyes widened, he had no idea what to do or how to face the music in front of him. Taking deep, scared breaths as he looked all around him, Sid found that he was the only one on the maternity floor at the time. He could _easily_ take the elevator back down and pretend that the whole thing never happened, but knew that doing so was out of the question.

Instead, the dark-haired adolescent found himself taking sluggish, tentative steps closer toward the view of the nursery, his nose nearly touching the glass, welcoming him to view the sleeping infants from behind the barricade in front of him. However, the young man turned his gaze from the sight before him and folded his arms, not noticing the doctor standing next to him.

"Hello," the man greeted him. "What brings you here?"

Sid looked up and found himself facing a man by the name of Doctor Augustus Warner as indicated by his hospital identification cards.

Glaring at the doctor standing before him, Sid demanded defensively, _"What's it to you? I thought your job was to_ _**help**_ _people, not_ _**meddle**_ _with their lives."_

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. I'm Doctor Warner," the man said, holding out his hand for Sid to shake.

"_I know what your name is,"_ the teenager retorted, refusing to shake the practitioner's hand.

"_Look,"_ Doctor Warner replied coolly, eyeing Sid with his amber orbs as he withdrew his salutation, _"__**No one**_ _comes to the maternity floor of the hospital without having an actual_ _**reason**_ _to be here._ Do you have a new sibling, by any chance?"

"_**No,"**_ Sid countered with an indignant tone of voice. _"Ask away, Doctor. I doubt you'll be able to figure it out when you don't even_ _**know**_ _me."_

The practitioner shrugged his shoulders and inquired yet again, "Do you have a new niece, nephew, or cousin?"

The young man shook his head.

Doctor Warner paused and looked at Sid knowingly just as the young man unfolded his arms and let them hang by his sides. He retreated away from the practitioner, feeling his own defenses crumbling as the person before him only continued to stare. It seemed as though the man could _read_ Sid like an open book, instantly learning of his hopes, dreams, daily thoughts, music tastes, and _everything_ he'd ever done.

"_You're the father of Helga Pataki's child."_

Sid froze as he kept his gaze downward, not wanting to look at the doctor or into the holding nursery because he was afraid of what he would see. After a long, awkward pause, the teenager finally nodded to himself while still keeping his dark eyes on the ground.

"My name… is… is Sid, Doctor."

"_I see,"_ Doctor Warner replied without hesitation. When the cowardly teenager had the courage to look up into the doctor's eyes again, he found that the man knew who he was throughout the entire course of their conversation. Sid watched as the practitioner turned his attention toward the inside of the holding nursery, giving a small laugh as he placed his right hand gently onto the glass. _"Right there,"_ he chuckled, before turning to face the young man again. _**"He looks like you."**_

The new father let out a small gasp of shock as he absorbed the words Doctor Warner just told him.

_He had a son._

Sid turned back toward the window in haste as his eyes rested on the baby inside the bassinet that sat not too far from his sight. There was no mistaking that the child was his own, because to him, looking at his newborn son was equivalent to examining his baby pictures, but with seemingly deliberate mistakes. The teenage father's chocolate pools first rested on his baby's thick mop of dark hair. The hair color belonged to Sid, while the child inherited its endless depth from Helga. As his gaze traveled downward, the young man saw his own large eye shape on the baby, but they were the color of bright, shining sapphires just like Helga's. The child inherited his thin mouth as well, but the nose was another story, for it belonged to neither him nor Helga.

A smallish grin crept onto Sid's face as he watched his son examine and play with his little fists. Though the baby looked like him, he already showed personality traits that were similar to his mother.

"_Oh my God,"_ Sid whispered, his voice completely breathless. _"This_ _**cannot**_ _be real,"_ he added, despite knowing otherwise.

"It's _very_ real," Doctor Warner said, placing a hand onto the new father's shoulder. Turning to face him, he queried, "Would you like to hold him?"

"Yes," Sid nodded, his attention still focused on the baby.

The doctor pursed his lips and motioned to the redheaded nurse working inside the nursery, who nodded. Doctor Warner then turned back to the teenager and indicated for him to follow his lead. The new father followed the practitioner inside and watched as the nurse walked toward him while holding a small blue bundle in her arms.

Giving the anxious teenager standing across from her a small smile, she told him, "The resemblance between the two of you is striking." The nurse placed the child into Sid's fold, admonishing him to support his baby's head before turning her attention toward the other infants in the room.

After taking a deep breath, Sid looked down at his son, _finally_ feeling as though what he experienced was truly real. Paradoxical feelings of love and sorrow plagued the young man as tears pricked his brown eyes, and the realization of what he had done overwhelmed his being all at once. He was just a child himself who messed with the sacred powers of procreation and ran away from the repercussions of doing so, only to open a whole new can of worms on himself, Helga, and his first descendent in the process. As Sid held his son, he couldn't believe that he walked out on him – on someone truly beautiful, and could never muster the courage to do what was right until now… until it was too late. His son wasn't going to want to have anything to do with him, and yet it didn't stop the new father from embracing his child's presence and taking in everything about him.

It didn't stop Sid from loving his son all the same.

The awestruck teenager traced his finger along the contours of his son's delicate face, and found that they shared the same bone structure, facial shape, and a similar profile.

He touched his son's soft hair with a gentle hand and said reverently, "Boy howdy… I helped _make_ you." Sid took a few unstable breaths as he held his son closer to him. He started heaving uncontrollably as the tears fell from his chocolate eyes and he could not longer keep his cries hidden. His voice wavering, he looked at the baby and choked out, _"I'm your father!"_

But only through biological means.

Sid Gifaldi was merely a sperm donor, the one person who only inserted his factory into Helga before walking away. He left her to face the backlash without any help on his part and let his actions do the talking. By abandoning Helga and their child, he showed that he resented the baby's existence from the beginning. The insight that Sid really _did_ want to be father came to him only came to him after he caused such irreparable damage that the mother of his son begrudged him beyond words and was certain that the plans she made concerning their child would not include him. Sid couldn't blame her. In fact, the new father wouldn't even be able to find fault with his son if he refused to let him into his life.

Sid turned around to face Doctor Warner while still holding his son close to his chest. He exhaled slowly in an attempt to calm down and asked, "Does he have a name?"

The older man shook his head and said, "Helga doesn't plan on giving him one."

"How… how's she doing?"

"She's resting," Doctor Warner endued him, his voice somber. "It was a very painful labor and delivery."

The young man frowned as he looked down at the child. Finding that he was unable to contemplate the hell Helga had to go through to bring him safely into the world, the remorseful teenager found his regret escalating as his lips trembled, the sobs vibrating within his throat threatening to escape again.

"With that said, you'll be lucky if Helga lets you visit," the practitioner remarked, his voice blunt. Noticing Sid's saddened expression and the dried tears that lined his face, he inquired, "Has she told you her plans yet?"

"No," Sid admitted. Reflecting on Mr. Slausen's words of wisdom and his advice received in the beloved ice-cream parlor not too long ago, the teenager added, "I have an idea of what they are, though."

"You might want to hear what Helga's plans are directly from her as opposed to a third party," Doctor Warner told him, scratching the back of his neck. He looked apprehensive and his yellow-brown eyes were filled with concern for the new father. "If you want, I can page her nurse and see if she's taking any visitors."

"Thank you," Sid responded. "I… I think I need to go and figure out what I'm going to say to her."

After much hesitation, he handed his son back to the nurse on duty and walked out of the holding nursery with his hands intertwined and perched at the back of his head. He found a restroom after exiting the nursery and surveyed his pale, repentant demeanor in the bathroom mirror. The young man splashed his face with cold water several times before heading down to the hospital gift shop on the first floor. Sid still had no idea what he was doing there as he found himself in a midst of colorful teddy bears, brightly colored balloons, and some children's toys. He was still at a loss for words when it came to Helga, for he knew that a simple apology would never be enough. The young father was sure he would spend all of eternity redeeming himself to Helga and their baby. He was going to live with this guilt for the rest of his life, in addition to knowing that his child could one day turn the tables and refuse to let _him_ be involved. Sid would also have to live with knowing that all his gestures would likely be empty and meaningless to the people he hurt.

Nevertheless, his brown eyes rested on the limited selection of flower arrangements the gift shop held. Sid was drawn toward the arrangement of yellow, pink, and orange gerbera daisies. He picked up the bouquet with trembling hands as a quick, diminishing smile brushed his lips momentarily. Despite the bleak situation, the young man found both a unique beauty and hope in the optimistic cheerfulness of the flowers he held within his grasp. Perhaps one day Helga would find it in herself to forgive him after seeing that he suffered from the constant, never-ending torment the guilt plagued him with. It was possible that the other people he wronged would understand.

Maybe his son would want to let him into his life.

The young man purchased the flower arrangement with a newfound sense of unjaded hope and took the elevator ride back up to the sixth floor. When the doors opened, Doctor Warner greeted him once again.

"Helga _is_ taking visitors," he notified Sid as he stepped off the elevator. "However, you'll want to be _extremely_ careful in how you approach her," he advised. "If you need someone to come in with you, I don't have an issue with doing so."

"I appreciate the offer, but this is something I have to do on my own," Sid told him. "Could you tell me what room she's in?"

"Twenty-four," the practitioner responded as he gave Sid a pat on the shoulder. "Good luck."

Sid took a deep breath as he continued the sojourn toward Helga's hospital room after Doctor Warner left. When he found himself in close proximity to the door, he stopped in his tracks upon noticing that someone left the room, shutting the door behind him.

It was Arnold.

"H – hi!" Sid cried out involuntarily, not knowing what possessed him to speak to his former classmate.

The football-headed teenager glared at him and spat icily, _"Are you_ _**finally**_ _manning up?"_ Reverting his gaze toward Helga's hospital room, he contributed, _"I was just leaving. You have to go in by yourself because I'm_ _**not**_ _doing your job for you."_

Sid nodded as Arnold walked away, watching as he turned the corner only to take the elevator down to the first floor.

Knowing that there was no turning back, Sid held onto the bouquet of flowers tightly and approached the hospital room door. He stood there for a few moments before taking a deep, erratic breath and knocking on the entryway with his spare hand. Time seemed to slow down as the door opened, revealing Helga's older sister who only grew more attractive with age. She let out a loud, piercing shriek before running into the hospital room, which allowed for Sid to make his entrance. He noticed that Olga ran to her parents, who sat in plush chairs to the right of Helga's bed. Her mother glared daggers at him while her father was extremely angry. The enraged man stood up from his chair, his large body shaking with fury as he began walking toward Sid, only for a voice to stop him in his tracks.

"_No, Dad. Let me talk to Sid."_

The young man turned his attention toward Helga, utterly alarmed at what he saw. The new mother's complexion was pallid and sickly while her cheeks were flushed furiously in red. The blonde teenager's long-sleeved green hospital gown was starkly contrasted against her skin and gave her the appearance of being violently ill. She still donned her navy blue hat as her long, blonde locks framed her face in thick, frizzy waves. Helga leaned her head against the pillows and had heavy blankets tucked to her upper chest, where only her arms peeked out as she clutched them close to her to keep away from the cold.

Sid approached Helga and told her as he held out the flowers, _"He's perfect, Helga. Our son is beautiful in every way."_

"_What the_ _**hell**_ _are you doing here?"_ Helga challenged him, her blue eyes staring at him with malice. _"Do you seriously think that you can make everything okay again by waltzing in with a stupid bouquet of flowers?"_

"Helga… please – "

However, the blonde teenager only turned toward her mother and said with sharpness, _**"Get rid of them.**_ _I don't want those_ _**damn**_ _flowers_ _**anywhere**_ _near me."_

Sid sighed and let Helga's mother take the flowers from him as she left the room to dispose of the bouquet. If Helga didn't want them, then he wouldn't force her to keep the vibrantly colored blossoms despite their symbolism.

Noticing that his hands were empty, he repeated, "I saw our son, Helga. He's… he's _everything,_ and – "

He felt his face sting as it turned sideways and away from Helga's glowering stare. Placing his hand onto where Helga hit him, she snarled, _"Do you have_ _**any**_ _idea what the_ _**fuck**_ _I've been through?"_

"No," Sid admitted, his voice small. His face throbbed in agony from another slap.

"_I'm on painkillers just so I can sit up and lie down again,"_ she fumed. _"Don't you_ _**dare**_ _come in here thinking that you know what's going on when you_ _**never**_ _gave a shit about our son in the first place!"_

This time, Sid felt himself stumbling backwards as he put both his hands up to his nose, which now bled. He uncovered his hands and found them covered in the vermilion liquid.

After staring at his trembling, bloodied hands, Sid looked at Helga and confessed, "I'll _never_ be able to fully understand what I put you through, Helga. The sad thing is that I _should_ know, but I don't. I – I'm sorry. I really am." He paused and let out a strangled sob before continuing. "I… I'm going to spend _every single day_ for the rest of my life and _all of forever_ making it up to both you _and_ our son. I'm willing to do it because _I_ _**love**_ _the child we had together!_ I _want_ to be a father Helga!" Putting a hand to his face as he cried, the teenager added, "I'm going to do whatever it takes to make that happen… I'll – I'll start now if you want me to!"

Both Helga and her father were rendered speechless by Sid's proclamation. They stared at him in silence before the new mother said with a raised eyebrow, "You're covered in blood, Sid. Wash your hands and face and then take that book with you after you do so." She cocked her head toward a red hardbound book that sat on the end table to her left.

Sid nodded and retreated toward the sink located in the hospital room to clean up before picking up the book, his whole body trembling whilst he did so. He turned to face Helga, who indicated to a spot on the bed next to her.

"_Sit there,"_ she told him as her father silently objected to the idea through the angered expression on his face. _"He's not going to do anything!"_ she said before turning her attention back to the contrite teenager, designating him to open the book he held within his grasp.

Though the young man knew it was coming, he was still surprised to see the book filled with several pages of photographs and a written history of a young, compelling couple. Their names were Kevin and Christine. As Sid looked through the portfolio, Helga told him of how they met, their love story, careers, humanitarian work, the devastation infertility brought to them, and their desire to adopt a child and start a family of their own. It all seemed so _unreal_ to the teenager as he pondered the fact that Helga chose them to raise their child. Although Sid wanted Helga to keep the baby for his own selfish desires, he could not deny the inevitable. Their son would be far better off with the adoptive parents Helga selected for him. Kevin and Christine were bonded together not just by matrimony, but also through love, fidelity, and commitment. The two of them were educated and could provide for their child a stable home life that neither Sid nor Helga could. They were capable of giving him the best of everything, while there was _nothing_ the young man could provide. Helga could only give of herself a dysfunctional family life that only just _seemed_ to be improving.

After absorbing the pictures, along with Kevin and Christine's story, Sid closed the thick portfolio and knew not to fight Helga's decision.

"He's better off with them," he acknowledged. "I… I'm really impressed that you chose such… such _wonderful_ people to raise our son."

Helga merely nodded, her expression revealing that she yearned to say more, but didn't know how to do so. Instead, she spoke, her voice raspy, for the person who knocked on the door from the outside to come in.

Sid watched as Helga's facial expression softened while a blonde nurse pushed their child's humidity crib into the room. After turning to Helga, who nodded, Sid stood up from his place on the bed and returned, holding their son in his arms. Helga scooted closer to Sid after the nurse, whose name was Deanna, upped Helga's painkillers and hooked her to a new I.V. The new mother used her pointer finger to stroke the baby's cheek as Sid looked on whilst their child slept peacefully in his embrace. The two of them would never be together, and yet they stood united and eternally linked because of the child they conceived during the impulsive one-night stand which took place that November night. Though their reunion was bitter and contentious, they found common ground in the love they shared for their son. There was _so much_ that still needed to happen before the two of them could truly reconcile. Yet, these children found and shared a collective happiness in having the baby they made together with them, loving him more than words could ever describe.

Sid and Helga were grateful for the time they had to spend with their son, even if it was only for a little while.

As the new father bent down to kiss his little boy, the full realization that he could no longer hide this part of his life came to him. While he pondered this, the young man also realized that he hurt other people in keeping such an important part of _his_ life, of _their_ life, a secret. Sid understood that he could not keep his son away from his family and also knew that he owed Arnold an apology for doing the job that _he_ should've been doing when Helga was pregnant. The teenager also owed him money for the stereo he broke on Independence Day.

The humbled teenager gave Helga a sad smile and handed the baby to her before stepping outside the hospital room and taking his cell phone out of his pocket and dialing his home telephone number. He heard the dial tone several times before his father picked up the phone, his voice filled with both exasperation and irritability.

"_Where the hell have you been?"_ his father screamed in frustration. _"Your mother and I have been worried_ _**sick**_ _about you and you're being so_ _**rude,**_ _walking out like this when your aunt and uncle came all this way to see you!"_

"Dad, can you and Mom meet me at the hospital?" he asked, interrupting his father's rant. "Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora can come if they want to."

"Y – you're… you're not _hurt,_ are you?" his father asked worriedly, his tone of voice changing from anger to concern. "Are you okay, Sid?"

"I'm fine," he answered. "Just… you and Mom need to meet me in Room Twenty-four at the hospital as soon as you can."

"_Why?"_

"Because," Sid said, "There's something you should know."

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "What Is Life?" written and performed by George Harrison. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	15. The Places You'll Go

**Chapter XV: The Places You'll Go**

_Here I am paralyzed with fright_  
_In the waiting place bolted upright_  
_I can't face the day nor sleep in the night_  
_Flying with all the wrong birds_  
_At a break neck steep flight_

_But at the bend_  
_Hold fast to what he read_

_Things will surely happen_  
_Oh Kid don't you know you'll move mountains_  
_Just be slow  
Be footsy and know_

_The places you'll go_

_These lonely games you're playing not particularly well_  
_It's impossible to win when you play against yourself_  
_Don't stumble through the hard parts and especially don't look back_  
_Just keep your focus fixed because life is one big balancing act_

_So instead_  
_I stare straight ahead_

_Caught in a perch and I'm here in a lurch_  
_Climbing down to find nothing but houses_  
_Some blacked out windows some eerily lit_  
_Either way nothing quite friendly about this_  
_I hear keep on going_  
_Be waterproof_  
_Weak from scouring hope_  
_When the dreams are in you_

~Majandra Delfino, "The Places You'll Go"~

* * *

**I**

Although the waiting room itself was cheery, with bright blue carpet, pale sky walls with cream trimming, and furnished with light polished wooden furniture, the occupants inside the room were not.

The mood was somber as Ray Gifaldi stared at the outdated copies of _Reader's Digest_ magazines and arrangement of silk flowers set on the table in front of him. He turned to his left, his dark eyes resting on his older brother Neil and sister-in-law Nora, who both nodded to him gravely. The man then focused his attention onto his wife Melinda, who had her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her grey eyes were filled with worry as she looked about the vast area around her, trying to think of anything other than what was going on in the next room over. The information she had only just learned of yesterday had been a lot for her to take in, and she was still having a difficult time absorbing it all.

"I can't believe we're grandparents," Ray whispered to Melinda as he clutched onto her hand and squeezed it. "It makes me feel so – "

"_Elderly?"_ Melinda put forth, a small, sad smile playing on her lips.

"Not _that_ far gone!" Ray cried out, eyeing her as he suppressed a laugh. "But yes, I do feel _very_ old right now. I don't feel _old enough_ to be a grandfather…"

His voice trailed off while he continued staring at his wife. Thank God for Melinda. She was going to be the one to get the _both_ of them through this, even though it looked like she was about to break apart at any moment. Melinda had always been the stronger one of the two of them ever since they began dating each other long before their marriage. She worked hard, was strong-willed, and always put aside her own wants and needs for both her husband and son. She was truly one of a kind, and as Ray stroked her cropped brown hair with his free hand, he regretted the fact that he could never give her the life he promised. Taking a deep breath, he inquired, "God, do you remember when _Sid_ was born?"

His wife nodded. "How could I forget? I remember the two of us sitting in the hospital room together holding him, marveling at how much _faster_ time already seemed to be going now that we had a child. I just never thought that our son would become a father only fifteen years later. By _no_ means did I ever think that he would have a child of his own before learning how to drive." She sighed and continued, _"Hell, Ray! I_ _**never**_ _thought we'd be grandparents right now!"_

"_You're telling me,"_ a gruff voice snorted from behind them.

The Gifaldi couple rotated and found themselves facing Bob Pataki, the notorious beeper king who conned them out of all their life savings. They also saw that his wife Miriam, a television executive and their rather accomplished wunderkind daughter Olga, due to make her Broadway debut in just a few day's time, were present as well.

Bob glared at Ray and snarled, "You're lucky I haven't turned your irresponsible spawn of evil into a castrati yet!"

"Oh _believe_ _**me,**_ Pataki," Ray retorted snidely as he stood up, "Had I know that Sidney knocked up your daughter, I would've cut off his penis a _long_ time ago!"

"Ray, _please_ get a hold of yourself!" his wife begged, her voice a mere hiss while she kept a firm hold on her husband's arm.

The man huffed as he took his seat again, but not before telling the man sitting behind him, _"At least the Gifaldi's don't take money from people!"_ He put both of his hands to his head and leaned forward, growling in frustration. Looking up at his wife again, he said, "I can't believe Sid didn't tell us about this. Why did he think it was okay to keep something _so incredibly_ _**life changing**_ _from us?"_

Ray exhaled deeply whilst recalling the moment that changed his life forever. He and his wife were simply sitting around the kitchen table with Neil and Nora, playing poker and listening to old John Lennon records on loop after getting lunch at Antonio's Pizzeria. The man felt frustrated with his son, who had yet to return any of his phone calls. Additionally, he was not appreciative of the fact that he was a no-show when Neil and Nora had taken time out of their schedules to pay him a visit. Halfway through Lennon's _Imagine_ record, he received the fateful phone call from Sid, telling them to meet him in room twenty-four of the Hillwood Hospital. Neil drove, because Ray and Melinda were too nervous, hoping and praying that nothing was wrong with their boy even though he told them otherwise. Upon reaching the hospital, the four of them found themselves so intent on reaching the designated room that they didn't notice all the maternal décor or the various shades of blue and pink that surrounded them.

Sid was the one who answered the door and let them in. He didn't say anything, but only allowed for his parents, aunt, and uncle to see what he had done for themselves. Ray felt his breath catch in his throat as his brown eyes rested on his grandchild sleeping peacefully inside the humidity crib next to _Helga Pataki's_ hospital bed. The man was rendered speechless by the sight in front of him; of _all people_ for his son to impregnate and keep a secret, it _had_ to be Bob Pataki's daughter!

A loud thump sent the man out of his shock-induced state. He turned to find that his wife had nearly fainted from distress at the sight in front of her. Neil and Nora, who both caught Melinda before her head hit the ground, helped his wife up and made her comfortable in a chair that Sid got out for her. Ray glowered at Helga's mother and father, who merely sat in their own seats doing nothing while their oldest daughter fidgeted nervously at the sight in front of her. Helga and Sid both eyed each other, wondering what was going to happen now that the irresponsible teenager's family had arrived and _finally_ knew what the truth was.

Ray turned to see how his wife was holding up. After walking next to the chair she sat in and bending to her level, he pushed her hair back with a gentle hand and asked, "Are you okay?"

"You need to speak with Sid," she whispered. "I thought you had _the talk_ with him!"

The dutiful husband half-shrugged, half-nodded stoically and stood up to face his son. He cocked his head toward the door and motioned for Sid to follow him outside. He watched as the adolescent's complexion paled before they made their exit.

Sid, trying to break the tense silence between the two of them, asked, "Do you… want to go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat?"

However, Ray only rolled his eyes and turned around to face his son, finding himself _beyond_ enraged at the irresponsible teenager.

"_Damn it Sid!"_ he nearly shouted. _"You've kept something_ _**extremely serious**_ _hidden from your mother and I for the greater part of a year and_ _**all**_ _you can think about is_ _**food?**__"_ The man glinted angrily at his son and exploded, _"__**SIDNEY RAYMOND GIFALDI!**_ _HOW COULD_ _**DO THAT**_ _TO YOUR_ _**OWN PARENTS?**__"_

"I didn't want you to be ashamed of me," Sid confessed as he looked downward. "I… I didn't want you to be mad at me after what happened between you and Helga's father."

Ray sighed with exasperation and cried out, _"Don't you see how it's so much_ _**worse**_ _now? Money or not Sid, your mother and I would've helped you out had you just been_ _**honest**_ _with us!"_ Taking a deep breath after his outburst, the man growled, _"You've really disappointed_ _**a lot**_ _of people, Sidney! I had_ _**the talk**_ _with you… you_ _**knew**_ _what having unprotected sex would result in! Then you just_ _**abandoned**_ _that poor girl and forced her to go through a pregnancy_ _**by herself,**_ _as if she didn't have a bunch of other_ _**shit**_ _to deal with, being the daughter of Bob Pataki…"_ Putting a hand to his head, the upset father added, _"I don't think I can look at you in the same way anymore! I – I love you Sid and you'll_ _**always**_ _be my son, but what you did is just – "_

"I know," his son told him shamefully, afraid to meet his father's steely gaze. "I just wasn't thinking when it happened. Neither of us was."

"_**Damn right**_ _you weren't thinking, Sidney! You_ _**clearly**_ _didn't have your head on properly when you __told your mother and I that you have a_ _**child**_ _in front of_ _**Helga**_ _and her_ _**family!**_" Letting out a sigh of frustration, Ray growled, _"Couldn't you have told us_ _**outside**_ _the hospital room?"_

When Sid didn't respond, an awkward silence followed them. Ray just spent the uncomfortable stillness not knowing what to think, just balking at the fact that his _own son_ was a complete idiot. Did Sid _really_ think that everything would be okay again once he revealed the truths he'd hidden for so long? Was he capable of understanding that this was going to follow him and his _own _mother and father for the rest of his life? He was just a child himself who acted as such even when he was in an adult situation. Hell, Sid was _still_ showing such utterly juvenile characteristics by not thinking through how he told him, his mother, aunt, and uncle about what he had done.

When the uneasy calm ended at long last, the young father looked upward and inquired with a small hint of hesitance apparent in his voice, "Would you… would you like to meet your grandson?"

"_Of course I do,"_ Ray said, his voice firm and unfaltering. _"I also want to know what your plans are concerning this, Sidney. Do you_ _**plan**_ _on being a responsible father_ _**this**_ _time around?"_

He watched as the scared teenager's entire body froze momentarily before he shook his entire being in an attempt to assuage the anxiety he felt and opened the door. The man's eyes instantly rested on his wife, who held their first grandchild close to her while the other occupants in the room looked on. His eyes turned to the child's mother, whose knees were brought in close to her body and who held her chin in her hands as she eyed Sid with concern in her deep blue eyes. Ray then noticed that her older sister had a camera out and snapped pictures with it madly while Neil held out is iPhone and took pictures with it as well.

Before Ray could get a word in edgewise, Olga piped up and said, "It's for your grandson, Mr. Gifaldi… I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," the man responded as he walked closer to where his wife sat holding the baby.

"He looks so much like Sid," Melinda told him as she placed the infant into his fold. Ray looked down into the child's sweet little face, finding the whole experience of meeting his grandson to be surreal. It was such a complete flashback to holding Sid when he was a newborn baby those fifteen years ago that the resemblance the new father and son shared truly frightened the still-shocked grandparent.

"_You ought to be_ _**ashamed**_ _of yourself,"_ he heard Neil mutter only loud enough for Sid to hear him. "_**God damn it, Sid!**_ _I knew you were insecure and had some self-esteem issues, but this just took it to a whole new level… deserting the mother of your son, that is just_ _**beyond inexcusable!**_" Ray knew those words were hard for Sid to hear as he looked away from everyone in the hospital room in disgrace. The teenager always looked up to his Uncle Neil and held him in the highest regard, sometimes in a much higher esteem than he did his own father. There were times when it pissed Ray off how his older brother seemed to effortlessly keep taking over his life in all that he did. Neil never ceased to make his presence known as the handsomer, more successful brother with a head full of hair and the gorgeous, blonde hippie girlfriend turned Stepford wife in tow. Still, he also helped out Ray and his family, and one of the ways in which he did so was by being a positive role model for his son.

After taking another deep breath, Ray found himself facing the adoption agent, who served as a painful reminder of what his son was about to do. Her name was Rosemary and she was the _sweetest_ lady, but whenever the man looked at her, he couldn't help but think of the all too perennial _bomb_ Sid dropped on him, his mother, aunt, and uncle the day before. Just as the four of them started to become more accustomed to having a new member in the Gifaldi family and were actually beginning to form a bond with him, the adolescent brought to their attention a thick, red hardbound book that would change everything. His son planned on going through with the relinquishment of the child to a couple that he'd never met before and that Helga and her family had only become acquainted with after one meeting. Though Ray looked through the profile and liked the Helga's choice of parents, he found the thought of adoption to be utterly horrifying because he could not imagine giving up his grandson after only knowing him for one day. These feelings intensified when Rosemary paid the group a visit with an adoption contract drawn up and ready for Sid to sign. Ray and Melinda balked at the terms drawn up in the paperwork, which stated that Sid was not to look for his son under any circumstances. In addition, Sid would not learn of the baby's last name until he became of age and contact would be limited to biannual updates in the months of June and December, which would be sent through the adoption agency. Sid would be allowed to send his son Christmas and birthday presents, but to the young father's horror, the contract explicitly affirmed that the _first_ in-person meeting would take place once the child turned eighteen and would only occur at _his_ consent.

Ray, who abhorred the possibility of never seeing his grandson again because of his _own_ child's foolishness, didn't want Sid to sign the contract. Melinda thought he was being selfish and told their teenager to sign the pact if it was what he really wanted. It was then that Rosemary informed the group that because Sid was a minor, he had to have the approval of _both_ his parents before he could sign the agreement. She then informed them that he and Helga would sign the official adoption papers before the authorized hand-off took place the next morning. Again, Sid had to have his mother and father's permission in order for it to occur. Ray always knew that Sid could be a tenacious little brat, and his adamancy on signing the contract and going through with the adoption proved to be no exception. Ray took his child aside, told him that he didn't have to go through with the adoption, and warned him of what the repercussions would be if he did so, the worst of them being the possibility that he would never see his son again. However, the young man insisted and he signed the indenture. He would soon surrender his rights of parenthood to his baby, and there was nothing that could be done to change the fact.

The kind adoption agent then took a deep breath herself and informed the occupants in the room that she would bring in Kevin and Christine, the adoptive couple, to meet with them before the hand-off took place. Ray turned tentatively to his wife and squeezed her hand for comfort as Rosemary made her exit.

"I can't believe this," he told her. "We're actually meeting the couple who'll raise our grandson… what if we don't like them? What if they're not what they made themselves out to be in the portfolio?"

Melinda shook her head and said, "I don't think we have anything to worry about, Ray. Helga made the _best_ decision for our grandchild and even if we never see him again after today, at least we'll know that he will grow up in a stable environment. His new parents will love him and ensure that he won't want for _anything._ Ray, it's such a blessing that Kevin and Christine will keep us updated on his life… it's very selfless of them to do that."

"I know," Ray sighed resignedly. "Its just… I _did_ want to be a grandfather."

"You still are," his wife assured him whilst leaning on his shoulder for some comfort of her own. "I'm sure that one day, after Sid grows up, becomes more responsible, and _gets married,_ he and his wife will have children of their own… it'll all work out, Ray."

The man nodded to himself as the room suddenly became loud. Voices filled the spaces around him and his family while he looked up to see the Pataki's exchanging hugs and greetings with a young beautiful couple standing before them. They were Kevin and Christine, the people selected to be the baby's parents.

"How's Helga doing?" Christine's soft, gentle voice asked. "I do hope she's holding up well."

"The birth itself was hard on her, but Helga's strong," Bob said, trying to keep his voice even. "She'll get through this."

"I don't doubt that," Kevin's deeper, but still calm voice remarked. "Christine and I will _never_ be able to thank Helga enough for this _amazing_ gift she's giving us."

As Ray watched his grandson's new parents interact with Helga's family, he soon found a pair of electric green eyes resting on him. He looked up to find himself facing a woman with russet hair that reached to her collarbones and tanned golden skin, wearing a navy blue dress complemented with bronze colored heels that skimmed her kneecaps and flattered her figure. Coming to wrap his arms around her was a man with neatly styled light brown hair, deep azure eyes, fair skin, wearing glasses, and dressed in a conservative suit and tie with dress shoes, was her husband.

"Hi!" she said, smiling at them. "You must be Sid's family." Gesturing to herself and her spouse, she continued speaking, "I'm Christine, and this is my husband Kevin."

"It's good to meet you both," Ray replied as he stood up with the rest of his family and straightened his tie. Holding out his hand for Kevin and Christine to shake, he introduced himself, "I'm Ray, Sid's father." Indicating to his wife, brother, and sister-in-law, he added, "This is my wife Melinda, who is Sid's mother, my older brother Neil, and his wife, Nora. They're Sid's aunt and uncle."

After the introductions were made, the six of them congregated together with the Pataki's, whereupon Kevin and Christine told the Gifaldi's more about themselves.

Despite reading their adoption portfolio, they learned that Kevin grew up in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho right next to the lake and mountains. His parents owned a ranch that had horses, cows, and goats on it that Kevin worked on during the summers while he was growing up. However, Kevin loved the city, and he and family often vacationed there. In addition to owning the ranch, Kevin's father was a banker and his mother taught music classes at an elementary school. He had two younger sisters; Mara was married with a daughter of her own, had a career as a medical ethics attorney, and lived with her family in Coeur d'Alene. His youngest sister, named Jael, had just started her second year of medical school at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill and was intent on becoming a radiologist. Meanwhile, Kevin was employed as a pediatrician at a prominent doctor's office in San Diego, though his work with organizations such as Doctors Without Borders, the Red Cross, UNICEF, and the World Health Organization took him to countries that Ray and Melinda had never even heard of. However, they were impressed by the fact that Kevin and his sisters both worked in various aspects of the medical field. He even found that he and Kevin both had similar tastes in alternative and rock music; Kevin even liked a lot of the same bands Sid did and hoped that if the two of them met that they could use the fact as a starting point in getting to know the other person.

Save for the years spent acquiring her university education and working as a Literary Resource Specialist in various parts of the world, Christine spent her entire life in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, California. She grew up right on the beach and like her husband, was the oldest of three children. Her younger sister Catherine had a career as a political writer and constantly travelled the globe with her detective husband and their twin boys. McKay, Christine's younger brother, studied Engineering at the University of Hawaii in Manoa and had just begun a Master's program at the Southern California Institute of Architecture. Her father was employed as the Chief Financial Officer of a car company and her mother taught Literature courses at a community college part-time. Ray really _did_ admire Kevin and Christine, along with their families, for being so educated. He never went to college, rather opting to work as a mechanic after barely graduating from high school. The man also saw how impressed Bob Pataki was that their fathers worked in finance, for the child's maternal grandfather surely hoped that his grandson inherited an aptitude for the subject in which is adoptive grandfathers could help him excel.

After getting to know them better, _nearly_ all of Ray's worries went away and he soon felt confident that Kevin and Christine would do a great job in raising his grandson. However, he was still scared for Sid and of what he would have to do.

The man cleared his throat and said, "When Sid told me that he planned on putting the baby up for adoption along with Helga… I – I _did_ have my concerns. I wanted to beat _the crap_ out of him for refusing to help Helga and for not telling his mother and I about this." He swallowed and continued, "I didn't want Sid to go through with it because I hated the idea of not ever seeing my grandson again… but I – I'm willing to do even _that_ if it means that he'll have a good life, and I know Sid is too… he feels horrible and I… he… _we_ _**both **_know that this will stay with him for the rest of his life."

Kevin and Christine, who held hands as they listened to Ray with intent, looked to each other and nodded after he finished speaking.

Kevin turned back to face Ray and said, "We're not here to judge your son, Mr. Gifaldi. We do have _some…_ reservations, but we're _so_ glad that he agreed to sign the contract and is willing to go through with this. He has _no idea_ how much this means to Christine and I."

Christine nodded and said, "This must be very hard for Sid, but we are _so_ grateful. That's why we want to meet him."

Ray's mouth fell open in shock as he took in Christine's words. Trying to form a coherent response, he sputtered, "You – you _do?_"

"Yes," Kevin answered. "We want to get to know him a little better before the hand-off takes place… if that's all right."

"It is," Melinda told the couple. "I'm sure Sid wants to meet the two of you as well." She then turned to Rosemary, who nodded and signified that she would get Sid from the other room.

It was only when she left that Ray realized how truly _real_ the adoption was.

**II**

In the other room, Sid Gifaldi watched as Helga sat not far from him with their son sleeping soundly in her arms. He gave a soft smile that she didn't return and wondered what Kevin and Christine would name him. Despite knowing that the baby was not his to name, he already got into the habit of calling him either George or Sylvain, which were the two names he always liked in spite of his refusal to be involved with Helga's pregnancy. The teenager tugged slightly at the collar of his white dress shirt, complete with red tie, black pea coat, slacks, and his best dress shoes. Sid had left his green hat at home, allowing for his black hair to show through. He wanted Kevin and Christine to have a good impression of him if they ever met in spite of his earlier cowardly actions. He hoped that they would find it in their hearts to forgive him for what he had done, but didn't expect them to. At this point, the young man found that he could only feel indebted to the couple for not only adopting his son, but for their capability of giving him the life Sid could not.

A quick knock from the outside forced Sid to avert his gaze away from his child toward the door, which he stood up to answer reluctantly. It was Rosemary.

Sid let the adoption agent in, who then proceeded to lay all the adoption paperwork out for them to read over and officially sign. The young man gulped and his face paled as his chocolate eyes scanned the papers in front of him, knowing that once he signed them, he could not go back and change anything.

"I know the both of you have already signed the adoption contracts, but _nothing_ is official until you sign the actual papers. Although your mothers and fathers have given their approval for the two of you to go through with this, the _final_ decision ultimately rests with _you._ Are the two of you _positive_ on your choice to go through with this?"

"_Yes,"_ Helga responded, her voice strong and unwavering.

"Are you, Sid?"

The adolescent bit his lip momentarily before nodding. "I am," he said, trying to sound stronger than he felt. "But…" he faltered before speaking again, "Can we spend some more time with him before signing the papers… and before the hand-off?"

"Of course," Rosemary replied, "However, Kevin and Christine want to meet with you, Sid."

Sid nodded as he breathed in deeply before giving a loud exhale. Beads of sweat soon began forming at his temples while he gulped with nervousness.

"Okay," he sighed. "I… I can do that. Will you give Helga and I just a… a half an hour?"

Rosemary nodded and made her exit, but not before leaving the adoption papers on the round table for Sid and Helga to look over before signing them.

Upon taking in yet another deep breath, Sid picked up the green gift bag that sat to the left of his chair and walked to where Helga sat holding their son. He presented it to her and said, "I got a present for the baby." When an uncomfortable silence followed, Sid told Helga, almost afraid to meet her gaze, "You look nice." He surveyed the young woman with her straightened blonde locks, light make-up, and navy blue knee-length dress that brought out her sapphire orbs. She wore a pair of silver flats and pearly hoop earrings in her lobes. She really _did_ look great considering that she'd only just given birth three days ago under the worst possible circumstanaces, but Sid knew the chances were high that Helga didn't believe him.

When she only eyed him skeptically, the young man said, "I… I can open the gift for you if you want." When Helga merely nodded, he pulled back the white tissue paper and first revealed a green hat that was identical to his own. Her face remained stoic as the teenager then pulled out a boxed set of Dr. Seuss' bibliography that he found at Lamoreaux's Bookstore for sixty percent off the night before. "I know you like to read and I figured that our son will probably like to as well… since he's already _so much_ like you… and I remembered the fun times we had during our first semester of Study Skills last year – "

"You didn't put any perverted rhymes in those books, did you?" Helga accused, glaring at him furiously. She was clearly unimpressed with the gift Sid had gotten for their baby and was _not _amused.

"No… why?"

"Because our son's new parents _do_ _**not**_ need to see that and will _not_ be impressed if such things were to ever show up in them," she countered. "I'm certain they also don't want our child to know that is biological father is a _total moron!_"

Sid froze at hearing Helga's sudden eruption of words. Feeling as though he'd been slapped all over again, he stood up and turned away from Helga with his hands on his head, not quite knowing what to think. He hoped and prayed that Kevin and Christine wouldn't be so callous as to tell his son that he was an idiotic person who'd done a lot of stupid things over the course of the past nine months. The adolescent's eyes soon rested on a book that lay next to the adoption papers. It was titled _Your Disgusting Head_ and was written by Dave Eggers, the same author who published the literary magazine Helga couldn't get enough of but that Sid himself could never get into. Back when the two of them were still friends, Helga tried numerous times to get him into the works of the versatile author, but failed. Just because Sid was good at English, it didn't mean he enjoyed reading for pleasure with the exception of researching conspiracy theories.

The teenager rolled his dark eyes, turned around, and shot back, "Oh yeah? Well, I don't think our son and his new family would care to know what the contents of his _'disgusting head'_ are, either!"

"_He is_ _**not**_ _disgusting!"_ Helga spat lividly. _"For your information, that's his_ _**favorite**_ _book. Of course,_ _**you**_ _wouldn't know that since you refused to be involved!"_

Helga's words stung to the core as Sid resumed his seat next to her. Looking at his son, whose eyes were now opened and staring up at him, he asked, "Why are we doing this? Why are we arguing, Helga?"

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice solemn. "But it's painfully obvious that we both have some conflicting views on what we think is best for our son."

"I'm sorry, Helga," Sid told her, knowing that he would be apologizing to both her and the baby for as long as he lived. "We can read _Your Disgusting Head_ to him if you want."

"Okay," Helga said, her blue eyes brightening somewhat. Staring at the green gift bag where Sid's gifts to the baby lay inside, she suggested, "If you want, we can read _Oh, the Places You'll Go! _to him afterwards. That's my favorite Dr. Seuss book."

Sid nodded, leaned over, and grabbed the first aforementioned book. Holding it in front of him, he ensured that Helga and their child could see the text and the pictures, even if their son couldn't make them out. The young man soon found that even if he didn't care too much for Dave Eggers, that he did love reading out loud to his baby. Doing so made him feel like a father, even if only for a little bit.

When the time came for the two of them to read _Oh, the Places You'll Go!_ out loud to their son, Sid pulled the book out from the bag and laid it on the table so that both he and Helga could take turns reading.

After turning to Helga, he asked, "Can I hold him?"

Helga stared at him momentarily before she reluctantly handed the baby to him. He looked down at his little boy as the amazement returned to him all over again that he helped _create _someone.

Taking a deep breath and watching as Helga opened to book, Sid volunteered, "I'll start reading."

_**Congratulations  
Today is your day  
You're off to Great Places  
You're off and away**_

_**You have brains in your head  
You have feet in your shoes  
You can steer yourself any direction you choose  
You're on your own**_

_**And you know what you know**_

_**And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go**_

In just moments, Kevin and Christine would officially adopt the baby and bring him to their home in California. He would grow up in a different environment, in a different time zone, and possibly with a way of thinking that would be wholly different from that of his birthparents. Sid had no doubt that Kevin and Christine would do a great job in raising his little boy and helping him in choosing the path that life would take him in. The dark-haired teenager just hoped that he could be a witness to it all, even if it was only from a far away distance.

_**You'll look up and down streets  
Look them over with care  
About some you will say "I don't choose to go there"  
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet  
You're too smart not to go down a not-so-good street**_

_**And you may not find any you'll want to go down  
In that case, of course, you'll head straight out of town  
It's opener there in the wide-open air**_

_**Out there things can happen and frequently do to people as brainy and footsy as you**_

_**And when things start to happen, don't worry  
Don't stew  
Just go right along  
You'll start happening too**_

Sid looked down at his son, unable to take his dark eyes off his light blue ones as Helga began her turn reading. Although the young man was eternally grateful that his child would have all the things that he could not provide, it was still terrifying to know that the baby would grow up to make decisions that wouldn't include him and Helga.

Those choices were _never_ meant to involve them. Sid and Helga would always be the baby's mother and father in a way, but they would _never_ be his _parents._

The teenager could feel it, though. He knew that his little boy as smart and would go on to do great things. It would take a lot of time and patience, but it would happen. He would know right from wrong and would know better. He _had_ to.

_**Oh  
The Places You'll Go**_

_**You'll be on your way up  
You'll be seeing great sights  
You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights**_

_**You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed  
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead  
Wherever you fly, you'll be best of the best  
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest**_

Helga continued reading, her voice still firm and unwavering. However, Sid was just starting to crack. The adolescent always knew that whenever things were well and smooth, that it was life giving him a break before a huge storm came. He knew that no one escaped from life unscathed, but hoped that his son would never have to face the things he already had to in his own life.

_**Except when you don't  
Because sometimes you won't**_

_**I'm sorry to say so but sadly it's true  
That Bang-ups and Hang-ups can happen to you**_

_**You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch  
And your gang will fly on  
You'll be left in a Lurch**_

_**You'll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump  
And the chances are, then, that you'll be in a Slump**_

_**And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun  
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done**_

_**You will come to a place where the streets are not marked  
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked  
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin**_

_**Do you dare to stay out  
Do you dare to go in  
How much can you lose  
How much can you win**_

Trying to keep his voice even, Sid resumed reading as the realization that he wasn't really a _parent_ became all too real for him. He wouldn't be the one to hold his son and let him know that everything was going to be okay when his little boy came from school after having a bad day. He wouldn't go to him for advice on how to get out of those inevitable slumps or lurches. He wouldn't seek his advice when the time came for his baby to make some of the most important decisions he would ever have to face in life. Sid could impart his own advice through biannual letters and packages of his own, but would his child _want_ to listen, _especially_ after learning about what his biological father had done and all the terrible things he did?

_**And if you go in, should you turn left or right  
Or right-and-three-quarters  
Or maybe not quite  
Or go around back and sneak in from behind  
Simple it's not I'm afraid you will find for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind**_

_**You can get so confused that you'll start in to race down long wiggled roads  
At a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space  
Headed I fear toward a most useless place**_

Though Helga was now reading, Sid knew what that "most useless place" was. They'd both been there and hoped that despite all the twists, turns, and numerous directions that their child could take, that he would never end up there. It was no place for someone like him, Sid realized as he recommenced his turn.

_**The Waiting Place  
For people just waiting**_

_**Waiting for a train to go  
Or a bus to come  
Or a plane to go  
Or the mail to come  
Or the rain to go  
Or the phone to ring  
Or the snow to snow  
Or waiting around for a Yes or No  
Or waiting for their hair to grow  
Everyone is just waiting**_

_**Waiting for the fish to bite  
Or waiting for wind to fly a kite  
Or waiting around for Friday night  
Or waiting perhaps for their Uncle Jake  
Or a pot to boil  
Or a Better Break  
Or a string of pearls  
Or a pair of pants  
Or a wig with curls  
Or Another Chance  
Everyone is just waiting**_

Sid and Helga were both very familiar with the Waiting Place. Sid stayed there when he'd been a coward, refusing to be there for his son and taking no interest in helping the mother of his child. He waited there for convenience, for easiness, and would be paying the price for the rest of his life. Tears pricked the young man's eyes as he looked to Helga, who confessed to spending some time in the Waiting Place as well, where she prolonged the decision to do the right thing for their little boy. Sid had to commend her despite her own admitted selfishness, not just because she chose wonderful people to raise their son, but for going through with it all and having the courage to leave the Waiting Place behind.

_**No  
That's not for you  
Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying  
You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing with banner flip-flapping once more you'll ride high ready for anything under the sky  
Ready because you're that kind of a guy**_

_**Oh the places you'll go  
There is fun to be done  
There are points to be scored  
There are games to be won  
And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all  
Fame  
You'll be famous as famous can be with the whole wide world watching you win on TV**_

Sid sensed that his baby was meant for so much more than to waste his life away. His little boy was meant to _live,_ not just merely _exist._ The child was already so strong, just like his mother and could already picture him as a writer, an artist, and a dreamer.

Though Sid hoped his son had inherited more from him aside his physical appearance, he knew it wouldn't matter. He would be proud of his little boy no matter what. He would always hold his son in the highest regard in spite of the roadblocks that would inevitably come toward him.

_**Except when they don't  
Because sometimes they won't**_

_**I'm afraid that some times you'll play lonely games too  
Games you can't win because you'll play against you**_

_**All Alone!**_

_**Whether you like it or not Alone will be something you'll be quite a lot**_

_**And when you're alone there's a very good chance you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants  
There are some down the road between hither and yon that can scare you so much you won't want to go on**_

_**But on you will go though the weather be foul  
On you will go though your enemies prowl  
On you will go though the Hakken-Kraks howl  
Onward up many a frightening creek though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak  
On and on you will hike  
And I know you'll hike far and face up to your problems whatever they are**_

_**You'll get mixed up of course as you already know  
You'll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go  
So be sure when you step  
Step with care and great tact and remember that Life's a Great Balancing Act  
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft  
And never mix up your right foot with your left**_

Although there were times when solitude was greatly needed, Sid often found that loneliness was the worst feeling he ever had to experience. He knew how it felt to be alone, rejected, and unwanted, how it felt to press forward in the face of adversity, and how to go forward through the worst of the storm without any help. Everyone faced lonesomeness at some point in his or her lives, and his little boy would be no exception to that rule. Like Sid, and like Helga, sometimes his child would feel alone and like no one liked him. Sid himself was no stranger to being mixed up about his life and being in strange places. He knew how it felt to have people, many of who he didn't know putting pressure on him from all sides. As his son grew older, he too would soon find himself feeling the same demands that other people expected of him. Though it was inevitable, Sid couldn't fathom the thought of his little boy being caught in strange crowds filled with the people who would try to influence him for the worst. As a father, Sid hoped and prayed that his child wouldn't be easily swayed or manipulated by others, like he often was. Yet, the young man had a feeling that with Helga Pataki for a mother, that his son would grow up to be obstinately strong-willed and headstrong just like she was.

Helga understood those feelings better than _he_ ever would. He could tell as she read the passage aloud and eyed him with the sapphire orbs that became more somber with each page that was turned.

It was all his fault. He had been the one to leave her alone to face the hardships of a teenage pregnancy and even had the nerve to humiliate her in front of so many people at one point. The teenager even refused to be there for is own son, the one person he now couldn't _ever_ picture there being a world without.

Could he ever make up for it?

_**And will you succeed  
Yes  
You will, indeed  
(98 and ¾ percent guaranteed)**_

_**Kid you'll move mountains**_

Sid and Helga read that part out loud and together. When they finished, Sid held their baby close to his chest and cried.

"_I'm sorry!"_ he sobbed uncontrollably as his body shook. _"I'm_ _**so**_ _sorry!"_

Time was running out on the young man and the half hour was almost up. All the apologies in the world wouldn't make up for the fact that Sid failed as a father, as a son, and as a friend. He hurt _so_ many people, and though his son wouldn't yet be able to feel the emotional wounds that came with the abandonment, he would come to know it. The baby would one day possess the knowledge that Sid had been a total jerk and actually resented his existence at one point. The thought of _his son,_ of _his little boy_ knowing that made him sick.

Turning to Helga, they stared at each other. His own eyes still brimmed with salty tears and hers looked sorrowful and wet. They nodded to the other person and finished the book.

_**So be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray or Mordecai Ale Van Allen O'Shea  
You're off to Great Places  
Today is your day  
Your mountain is waiting  
So get on your way**_

When they concluded the story, Helga closed the book silently, handed it back to Sid who placed it back inside the gift bag, and looked at him, not knowing what to say.

Soon interrupting their silence was Rosemary, who told them that the half hour was up.

"Are the two of you ready to sign the papers?" she inquired, staring at the two of them.

Sid and Helga nodded stiffly as the adoption agent handed them two black ballpoint pens. The young man watched as Helga signed the papers without any fear or the need to ask questions. Meanwhile, his pen skimmed the surface just slightly before lifting his trembling hand from the contract. This went on for several minutes. Finally, his lips wobbling violently, the teenager had to close his eyes and look away after several moments of hesitation as he signed the paperwork, which stated that he surrendered the rights of parenthood to his son. His eyes remained closed as Rosemary gathered up the adoption papers and pens, unable to see his own untidy signature that finalized it all.

"Sid? Are you ready?"

The teenager gulped and nodded, still refusing to open his eyes, which held all his tears. Opening his eyes at last, his kissed his baby and whispered to him, "I love you _so_ much… and I'm sorry. I – I hope you'll want to meet me someday. But even if you don't, always know that I'll still love you. Please respect and be nice to your new parents, because they love you more than you'll _ever_ know. Stay away from girls… even the _really pretty ones_ like your mom. They're nothing but trouble!" Taking a deep breath, he finished, "Don't listen to anyone who tells you that your mom and I gave you up because we don't love you… always know that we are doing this because we _do_ love you. Don't ever forget us, okay?" He then gave the child in his arms a final kiss and apology before placing him back into his mother's fold. Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped his face with it before putting it back into his pocket, standing up from his seat, and grabbing the present he got for the baby.

Making his exit, Sid followed Rosemary out to the waiting room where Kevin and Christine, along with his and Helga's families were waiting for him. The young man knew he looked like a wreck and his nerves only escalated when his eyes rested on Helga's father. After taking a deep breath, he fixed his gaze on Kevin and Christine and was about to introduce himself to them when he felt his mother's arms around him.

"Are you okay, Sidney?" she asked, her voice filled with gentleness. Sid looked into her grey eyes, which were filled with concern and worry.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Everything's going to be okay."

His mother gave him a sad smile and gave his shoulders an extra reassuring squeeze before taking her seat again.

He looked to Kevin and Christine and took a deep breath, holding out a shaky hand for them.

"I'm Sid," he said anxiously as he exchanged handshakes with the people who were to be his son's parents. "I – I'm really glad you're doing this for him. Thank you."

In an attempt to lighten the serious mood that was present in the room, Kevin suggested, "Why don't we all sit down?" He gave Sid a small smile as the three of them took their seats around the large, round table with the others.

When they all sat down, Christine turned to Sid and said, "Tell us a bit about yourself. Kevin and I want to get to know you… we've wanted to ever since we heard you agreed to go through with the adoption."

"Well," Sid began tentatively, placing the present onto the table, "I got him a gift." He watched apprehensively as Kevin and Christine opened it together, their facial expressions remaining neutral as they surveyed the little green hat they held up. "I have one just like it," Sid put forward, giving them a small, abashed smile as they nodded. "There's more inside."

The young couple then unearthed the boxed set of Dr. Seuss books and beamed at each other.

"Thank you for the gift Sid," Christine told him sweetly. "This is so thoughtful of you."

"You're welcome," Sid responded. Seeing that Kevin and Christine still wanted to become acquainted with him, he began, "I'm fifteen years old and will be a sophomore in high school soon. I grew up with Helga, but I'm sure you probably already knew that." The adolescent laughed nervously and added, "I like photography, alternative and rock music, and reading about conspiracy theories." He finished speaking, feeling like an infomercial.

"That's great," Kevin said, giving him a reassuring grin. "What bands do you like?"

"The Beatles, The New York Dolls, R.E.M., Nirvana, Pearl Jam, The Clash, Franz Ferdinand, Linkin Park, Rush, Aerosmith, The Eagles, The Strokes, Dinosaur Jr., The White Stripes, The Who, Devendra Banhart, Radiohead, The Rolling Stones, Def Leppard, AC/DC, The Ramones, Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age…" his voice trailed off as he looked at Kevin and asked, "Do you like the same music as me?"

Kevin nodded. "Have you ever been to a Vans Warped Tour?"

"A few times," Sid responded. He eyed his father, who smiled at him before turning to face Kevin again.

The man gave a small chuckle and said, "When Christine and I were dating, I played in a band that performed some shows there. She refuses to listen to our music, though."

"Hey!" Christine cried out jokingly, "So what if our music tastes are completely different?"

Sid laughed and told Kevin, "It looks like I"ll have to plead Switzerland." He bit his lip and asked as the mood in the room became solemn again, "Do you hate me?"

The couple looked at each other before turning to Sid. Christine put a hand onto his shoulder and said, "We don't hate you, Sid. We don't think you're a bad person, but we… we do think that you've behaved very poorly, but Kevin and I recognize that you're trying your hardest to do what's right now."

Kevin nodded and remarked, "We feel so blessed to know that you've agreed to go through with this… most birthfathers would try to _fight_ an adoption from taking place, but you're not."

"It's what's best for him," Sid choked out, his voice quivering. "I… I know that I've been a horrible father. I – I walked out on both him and Helga when they needed me most, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting that. I've resigned myself to a life filled with the bitter pangs of remorse and the likelihood that the baby will grow up resentful of me. Before I learned you were going to adopt him, I realized… too little, too late, that I _do_ want to be present in his life, even if it's only from a distance. I – I would like to be a silent witness to him growing up and to have the chance to meet him when the time comes… but I will understand if you don't want me to… if he doesn't want to. It _would_ be a suitable punishment to know nothing of what he becomes… such as his likes and dislikes… what car he drives, who he takes to his senior Prom… what college he goes to and what he majors in… the girl he'll marry and the children they'll have. It's what I deserve, considering what I've done."

Christine, however, only put another hand onto Sid's shoulder and said, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, but we're _not_ going to cut you off. Kevin and I will ensure that you'll know everything you need to about _our_ son, because he's yours just as much as he is ours. You can always make things right again, Sid. It'll take a long time… and it will be the _hardest_ thing you'll ever do, but it'll be _best_ thing to ever happen to you in your life – knowing that you've redeemed yourself and have done the right thing."

"What… what can I do?" Sid wondered aloud, feeling a sob lodge in his throat, "How will I ever be able to make it up to him?"

"Keep loving him," Kevin said. "Better yourself and overcome your flaws."

"Will you… will you let him know how much I – I love him?"

"_Of course."_

Sid felt the tears come back as he got out his handkerchief and dabbed his eyes with it. His body shook with irrepressible sobs as he tried hard to maintain his composure, but failed. When he got his cries under control at long last, he looked up to see the adoption agent standing before the group.

"She's ready," Rosemary told them.

The young man gulped as his parents, aunt and uncle, and the Pataki's stood up from their seats at the table. His mother embraced him, as did his aunt. His father put both his hands onto his shoulders and squeezed them reassuringly while his uncle gave him a pat on the shoulder before they walked out.

"_Where are they going?"_ Sid demanded frantically, facing Rosemary.

"It was Helga's request that the hand-off take place just between the four of you," she answered. "That way, it would remain your decision until the very end."

Sid nodded as he finally stood up from his seat and stepped off to the side, allowing for Kevin and Christine to be at the center when the hand-off took place. He watched as Christine straightened her husband's tie, as though the baby would care about such a trivial detail. They looked at each other lovingly before the other person a kiss while the teenager stood back and watched the door, waiting for Helga and the baby to come out at any moment.

Both Sid and Helga had already signed the papers.

There was no turning back now.

**III**

Helga held her still unnamed son close to her chest, cherishing the last moments they had together before she would hand him off to his new parents. Surveying the room around her with a saddened, teary-eyed expression, she came to realize just how _empty_ the space around her was. No material possessions were in the room, save for her copy of _Your Disgusting Head_. Her mother and father had brought her hospital bag down to their car before officially signing her out as a patient at the hospital. Meanwhile, the agency that oversaw the adoption was kind enough to have all the baby's gifts shipped to Kevin and Christine's house the day before. In addition to the presents already received, Helga chose to include her beloved copy of _The Way We Live Now_ with the packages. With deepened, bittersweet pains, she wrote him a heartfelt letter on the inside front cover and highlighted several passages in the Victorian novel that stood out to her. Aside from the memory book Olga compiled, which now also included photographs of Sid and his family with the baby, the blonde adolescent's favorite novel would be proof that she had existed in her son's life. Helga gave her child a morose smile and kissed his softened cheek. He was _already_ spoiled rotten, but she also could not deny that he was greatly loved by not only those around him, but also by Kevin and Christine, and the members of his new family who had yet to meet him.

Her lips trembling violently, she held out her baby, looked into his tiny face, and said, "It's been quite the journey, hasn't it?" Helga took a deep breath as the little boy in her arms gave a soft, gentle yawn and blinked, his eyes still the same vibrant shade of blue that mirrored her own. She hoped his eyes would stay the color of brightened, piercing sapphires that could hold a person's gaze forever. "You know," she admitted, "It was a real shock… knowing that you were going to come into this world… but please don't think that I love you any less because of it, because I _am_ going to love you forever." Feeling the tears course down her cheeks, she told him, "I loved you before you were born. Please don't forget that… and _please don't forget_ _**how much I love you.**_"

She hugged her son tightly one last time, trying her hardest not to cry. When Rosemary reentered the room, she merely nodded, signifying that she was ready. The compassionate adoption agent bent down and wrapped her arms around Helga and the baby momentarily before standing up again and positioning herself behind the adolescent's wheelchair. Helga hated the idea of being wheeled out to meet Kevin and Christine and soon found that she abhorred the age-old hospital policy that all outgoing hospital patients had to be sent out in one. However, the young woman was under Doctor Warner's orders not to strain herself, especially since she had a long recovery ahead of her. Even though the idea of her son's new parents seeing her in a wheelchair made her feel uncomfortable, she knew Kevin and Christine wouldn't care, and so she obliged to the practitioner's medical instruction.

Time seemed to stand still as Rosemary wheeled Helga and the baby out to the other waiting room, where Kevin and Christine, along with Sid, were waiting for her. Helga's gaze instantly fell onto the new parents, who were dressed nicely and held hands. Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she waited for the couple to notice that she was there waiting for them. Before she knew what was happening, Christine's electric green eyes locked with her own blue ones, and the adoptive mother rushed over to Helga, embracing both her and the child in a hug.

Running her hand through the baby's thick hair, Christine looked down at him, smiling. She then turned to Helga, her own eyes brimming with tears, she said, "He's perfect Helga; absolutely perfect." After pulling out her camera, she said, her own lips now trembling, "I want some pictures of the two of you together. It's important that he knows how much you love him."

"Thank you," Helga said, her voice filled with gratitude as she tried her hardest to keep from crying, "Thank you for wanting him to know that." The young woman took a few shaky breaths and did her best to smile and look presentable for the pictures Christine took of her and the baby.

When Christine finished taking the pictures, Helga bit her lip as silent tears fell from her azure eyes and down her face. After sniffing loudly, the young woman placed the child into his new mother's loving arms and watched as Kevin joined in, placing one arm around his wife. He used his other hand to stroke his son's dark hair and caress his little face. As Christine handed the baby to her husband, Helga turned her attention to Sid, who watched the scene before him with violent wobbling lips, wet dark eyes, and a paled complexion flushed in red. The young woman nodded and motioned for him to come join her. After he did so, the two teenagers watched as Kevin smiled widely at his new little boy before giving him a kiss on the forehead.

The adoptive father looked up and faced Sid. Giving the adolescent another smile, the new father told him, "He looks like you."

Sid grinned shyly at Kevin in return, despite tiring of hearing about the strong resemblance he shared with his son. As the child continued to sleep soundly in Kevin's arms, the young man looked into his face, knowing that this could very well be the last time he would ever see his child. Refusing to dwell on the ominous fact, he turned to Kevin and asked, "What… what will you call him?"

"Matthew," Kevin responded firmly, "Matthew Caleb." While Helga and Sid pondered this revelation, along with the fact that their son now had a moniker, Kevin stated, "It was my cousin's name. We were best friends and grew up together. The two of us went to the same school, participated in various extra-curricular activities together, and planned on being roommates for when we were to begin our studies at the University of Washington in Seattle." Upon releasing a slow exhale after a momentary pause, which Kevin used to look down at the baby, he revealed, "Matthew died that summer. I… I remember it so well. We went boating on the lake that day and made plans to go into the city that evening for a party our friend was throwing. I dropped Matthew off at his house after our boating excursion and told him that I'd be there to pick him up later that evening… but when I got to his house, I found him in his room… on his bed… and he wasn't breathing." Christine rubbed his back gently as he continued, "I'll… I'll never forget seeing him like that… his complexion pale, yet his expression so _ironically peaceful,_ like he was merely sleeping. All the toxicology reports came back negative… the only explanation the doctors could come up with was that Matthew died of _'natural causes'_, even though they themselves couldn't explain what had happened. I just remember being at his funeral and making the promise to myself that if I ever had a son… that – that I would name him after Matthew."

"I – I'm so sorry to hear about your loss," Helga said as she still attempted to take in what Kevin had just told she and Sid. Her heart broke for the loss he faced, especially since it wasn't just the passing of a family member, but of a _friend_, someone the man spent his entire childhood and adolescence with, and who was supposed to enter into adulthood with him. Helga knew how it felt to be apart from someone she truly loved; even though Arnold hadn't really _died_, the young woman never expected to see her beloved again and figured that their paths would never cross after he moved away. In spite of the differences, Helga sympathized with Kevin and knew he must've been devastated to be the first witness to his cousin's untimely death. After swallowing nervously and thinking more about the significance of her son's new name, she told Kevin, "It's a nice name… and a fitting tribute."

"We certainly thought so," Christine said, wrapping her arms around Kevin's shoulders and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "When we were told by doctors that it would be impossible for us to have children, it broke our hearts knowing that _this_ likely wouldn't be possible… but now, it's a _reality_ that we were told were never happen… Kevin and I can't thank you enough for it." She then rushed over and hugged both Helga and Sid close to her, refusing to break contact for what Helga perceived to be the longest time. When Christine finally released the teenagers from her embrace, she took out her camera again and suggested, "We should take a few pictures for Matthew… and for the two of you as well. That way, you'll know that you were present in the other's life."

Helga nodded, immensely grateful for Kevin and Christine's courtesy. They knew Sid was only just _now_ making the effort to man up, but nevertheless, they appreciated it. Though the new parents were not impressed with his pusillanimity, the young woman was pleased to see that they had more class than to speak about the situation to Sid in a negative light in front of Helga and Matthew. She knew that Kevin and Christine would tell Matthew the truth as he grew up, but would also allow for him to form his own opinion on the matter by presenting him with an unbiased viewpoint on his biological father despite the differences they shared concerning him.

As Helga posed for more pictures with Matthew and Sid, Kevin and Christine, time seemed to speed up instead of slowing down like it had previously. The concept was proving itself to be the most fickle friend, racing by when one wanted to stop all the world, but going at a snail's pace when one wanted to just let go and move on with life. Just for a moment, Helga wanted everything to stop. She wanted to hold Matthew, her baby, the little boy she loved, carried, and for whom sacrificed _so much,_ forever. She longed to pause time and embrace him, but knew she could not.

After the final photograph was taken, which showed the five of them together, with Matthew still sleeping peacefully in Kevin and Christine's loving hold as Helga and Sid stood on either side of them, the new family made their exit. When Kevin and Christine exchanged some last hugs and expressions of gratitude with Helga and Sid, the teenagers watched as the adoptive father opened the door for his wife, who held their new son. Their eyes didn't turn away as he put his arm around her, but not before they looked back on them. Kevin and Christine's eyes filled with happiness and appreciation, but also worry for how the young adolescents, _especially_ Helga, would handle the aftermath of giving their baby to them. Nonetheless, Helga and Sid continued watching, their breaths lodged in their throats as their baby grew further away from them until the door shut and they could no longer feel his presence.

While Helga's blue eyes remained fixated on the door, she felt something tighten on her hand and was shocked to find that Sid was holding onto it for support. With tears falling freely from his brown eyes and down his cheeks, the young man breathed hard and fast while he wiped them away with his spare hand. Turning to face Helga, who wrestled her hand free from his grasp, he could only stare at her despite trying to speak as his mouth formed inaudible words. His face horribly flushed, he said, his voice cracking, "He's – he's really _gone,_ isn't he?"

"Yes," Helga whispered as she clasped her own hands together while interlocking her fingers together, "He is."

Sid exhaled shakily and turned to Helga yet again, looking as though he wanted to speak to her again. However, the young woman kept her cold, seemingly unfeeling gaze on the door ahead of her. She didn't want to talk to Sid or give him any semblance of a chance after all the crap he pulled over the past several months. While it was true that the two of them would be forever connected to each other because of Matthew, she wanted _nothing_ to do with him. She didn't want Sid _anywhere_ near her and she sure as Hell didn't want to talk to the one person who _should've_ been her support system and been there for Matthew, but _wasn't._ Perhaps one day, the could come together in a civilized manner and reconcile, talk about Matthew and all the endeavors and adventures he would experience in growing up, simply marvel at the fact that they had come together at one point to create someone _truly_ beautiful, and put the past behind them. Helga, however, only snorted and rolled her eyes when the thought passed through her mind. Reconciliation with Sid was still and would likely remain eternally unattainable at this point. She doubted that the two of them were even capable of acting polite towards each other after all that transpired. Shaking her head, the young woman tried to release the bitter feelings of pent-up anger held inside her, simply because she didn't want to _feel._ Helga refused to think about the fact that she had just gone through with the irreversible decision of relinquishing her child. It made suffer through emptiness, numbness, and only intensified the fear of facing her family again now that the official hand-off had taken place.

Soon finding that it was _her_ turn to breathe, she glowered at Sid and said woodenly, _"Let's go,"_ because although Helga didn't want to see her family, the teenager knew she would have to at some point. She just wanted to get the whole thing over with. Sid nodded, grabbed the handles of her wheelchair, and pushed with such slowness that it became apparent that _he_ didn't want to face his family either.

As they made their way down the hallway and then took the elevator down to face their families, Helga found herself loathing the hospital's wheelchair policy even more than she thought she could. It made her feel humiliated and incapable, and she couldn't stand it. She looked down and clasped her hand even tighter together as Sid opened the door to the waiting room that held their families. Helga looked up tentatively as she noticed them surrounding her and Sid. Unlike the resilient young woman who had gone through so much and sacrificed everything, it only took one look into the eyes of his worried mother and father for the sorrowful teenager to break down into uncontrollable sobs and loud gasps of air as his parents, aunt, and uncle lead him out of the hospital. They tried their hardest to comfort him, but failed miserably in doing so. Helga, who still didn't want to say anything, just looked up at her parents and sister, not wanting to be vulnerable or show any sign of emotional weakness, even though she felt as though she was about to burst and fall apart. She turned away from Olga, whose bottom lip trembled fiercely and continued staring straight ahead, longing to get out of the stupid wheelchair. Her father squeezed her shoulders gently before leaving to pull the car up and her mother grabbed onto her hand and squeezed it before wheeling her out. Helga watched from where she sat as numerous pairs of spouses came out of the hospital adorned with baby memorabilia and most importantly, _their child._ They looked so _happy, elated,_ and _full of joy_ that it made her want to cry.

The car ride home was spent in silence. Helga refused to meet the gaze of her family and instead opted to roll down the window and face the outside. Ironically, the day was sunny and cloudless even though a slight breeze was present in the air. Perhaps it could dry out her eyes and prevent the tears that longed to free themselves from coming. Maybe the wind could carry her away to a place where none of this had happened - where she didn't have Sid's friendship and didn't get carried away, no pregnancy, and no adoption.

Perchance the wind could convince her that this wasn't real.

Upon returning home, the silence continued to speak volumes as the members of the Pataki family got out of the car and stepped inside the house.

It felt empty.

Still holding her pink hospital bag as the four of them stood in the family room, her father looked at her worriedly. The deepest of concern filled his blue eyes as he asked with quietness, "Can… can we get you anything, Helga? Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

Helga shook her head and responded, "I just want to be left alone… for now. But thank you." She nodded to her family and took the upstairs to her room, where her father trailed behind with her duffel. He set it by her door and made his exit hastily, shutting the door behind him as he did so. Not wanting to unpack, Helga merely ignored her brightly colored luggage and headed to her dresser. After opening the top drawer, she undressed and threw the navy dress that once adorned her body onto the floor before slipping into a pair of sweatpants and one of the few shirts that still fit her. Like she had done so in earlier instances, she continued staring straight ahead out of the fear of being confronted by her new post-baby body all too soon. Walking slowly about the room, she shut the window, closed the blinds, and then crawled into her bed. She threw the massive blankets and sheets over her body, buried her face into the pillows, and said to herself as she tried to keep her voice from wavering, _"Maybe this isn't real."_

She closed her eyes, trying everything she could not to feel anything as sleep overcame her still-exhausted body. Helga still had a week before school started and the young woman hoped she could just sleep through it. Despite its inevitability, she hated knowing that her return to school would mean having to face Sid. It would mean having to tell her classmates and teachers about the adoption, which was akin to living through it all over again, and Helga was _not_ ready to face that prospect yet. Very few people knew about the adoption and in a lot of ways, it was still such a sacred subject to her that the last thing she wanted to do was shout it from the rooftops. After giving a deep sigh, Helga finally relented and slipped into the unconscious, seeing black and feeling nothing.

When Helga woke up several hours later at an obscure early morning hour as revealed to her by the electronic time-telling numbers on the outside of her cell phone screen, the young woman found that she felt heavier.

Wet.

_Dirty._

Fumbling with clumsiness to turn on the lamp sitting idly on the desk to her left, the feelings of inadequacy and uncleanliness continued coming full force as her spare hand rested inexplicably on her chest. With the light finally on and illuminating her spacious bedroom, Helga looked down and screamed in horror at what she saw.

After already feeling so much physical and emotion pain from all she had experienced, the devastated teenager was learning yet _another_ lesson the hard way. Helga shut her eyes tightly as salted tears coursed down her cheeks while she turned away from the sight below her. Everything was culminating as her emotions were still in a cesspool of never ending change – falling pregnant at such a young age, having to deal with the father's abandonment and his public humiliation of her, the neglect suffered at the hands of her family, the fact that it took so long for them to come around, along with an excruciating labor and delivery. Then, there was the adoption and the heartbreak that came with surrendering the son she never got to name that only added to the pain and the difficult fact of life being conveyed to her – that no matter how advanced medicine was and would one day become, it could never stop Mother Nature from only doing what was only deemed as being natural.

Helga's face crumpled as she buried it inside her hands and sobbed loudly, lamenting for all she had lost – her son Matthew, Arnold, emotional control, hormonal stability, her physical wellness.

But worst of all, it reminded the young woman of the fact that what happened was actually real.

**IV**

As if leaving the hospital wasn't already bad enough, the car ride leaving it behind was a complete disaster. Sid was utterly inconsolable as he held onto his mother with such force that she had trouble prying him away once the Gifaldi family had arrived in the hospital parking lot. Melinda insisted on sitting with their son in the backseat of the old, well-used brown 1974 Chevrolet impala that Ray drove all throughout high school and never quite had the heart to get rid of. Before they left, Neil suggested that the five of them get lunch someplace prior to heading home as a way to ease over what had just happened.

Ray thought the idea was stupid. All the lunch dates in the world would never assuage the pain of what Sid had just been through. Though the great majority of it had been self-inflicted due to his own idiotic choices, giving up his son was something Sid would never get over. While it was true that the pain would become less acute with time, Ray knew that it could possibly take _years _before Sid was finally at the beginning of _that_ recovery. He was set to travel down a long, winding road filled with bumps, forks, and uncertainty when it came knowing what would become of the baby now in the care of another family. Ray paused as he sat behind the wheel of the car, eyeing his wife and son in the backseat. Sid sat slumped over, the upper half of his body splayed out across his mother's lap as his face remained buried in his hands while she did all that was possible to comfort him. Taking a deep breath, Ray then focused ahead of him, his temper already rising from the excessive New York City traffic that surrounded him from all sides.

"_Stupid Neil,"_ he growled, looking at the couple in front of him chat animatedly inside his brand new, black BMW. _"This was such a dumb idea,"_ the man muttered to himself, _"Following the older brother who thinks he knows everything about being a parent when he opted not to have kids of his own."_ Ray rolled his eyes, part of him envying his older brother for having the better life and the approval of his son and the other half jealous that he had such an uncomplicated life.

They finally stopped for lunch at The Burger Joint located in the Le Parker Meridien and Ray couldn't help but resist laughing at the lack of originality for which the restaurant was named. The meal was silent and awkward as Sid merely picked at his food while Nora tried her hardest to keep a conversation going among the group. When she asked her nephew what his son's name was, he shot her the nastiest glare and then looked to his parents, pleading with his saddened orbs for them to go home. At that point, Ray could only roll his eyes at Neil and Nora's antics and acquiesce to his son's silent request. He suggested that they have the remainder of their meals boxed up and retrieved his car keys from his pocket, finding himself not only enraged at his brother, but at his sister-in-law as well. What the _hell_ was she thinking, anyway? She sure had a lot of nerve inquiring after Sid for his child's name when he hadn't even told his own mother and father what it was! It was painfully obvious that this was such a sensitive subject for him, as well as for Ray and Melinda to discuss and quite frankly, Neil and Nora really had no place in bringing it up.

Immediately after their meals had been boxed up and ready to go, Ray stormed out of the restaurant, just wanting to go home. Once Sid and Melinda resumed their places in the backseat, Ray took off, not caring about what would happen if Neil and Nora found themselves lost in the bustling traffic of the wide metropolis. To his luck however, they soon found themselves behind Ray in the turbulent interchange and had made their way ahead of him by the time they returned to Hillwood.

Sid, his face bearing the residue of dried tears on his face while his dark brown pools still watered, asked to be left alone as he made his way to his room and promptly shut the door once the five of them had entered the Gifaldi residence. Ray took the opportunity to glower at his older brother before passing one along to Nora prior to putting on his old _Houses of the Holy_ record by Led Zeppelin and allowing himself to fall onto the couch. He shut his eyes for a few moments, ignoring his brother and sister-in-law when they sat next to him. To the man's surprise, he was only halfway through "The Rain Song" when he heard the loud clicking of computer keys drumming rapidly across the console. Ray opened his eyes and squinted, making out his wife sitting at their computer frantically typing out a letter on Microsoft Word.

"What are you up to, Melinda?" he asked, getting up from his place on the couch and throwing his arms around his wife once he took his place behind the chair she sat in. He kissed her temple and turned to face the monitor in front of him as their faces touched. Ray's eyes grew wider upon seeing that Melinda was dictating a letter to her family, detailing everything that had transpired.

Ray's breath became worried and fast-paced as he read through what his wife had written yet again. There was _no way_ he and Melinda could tell them had had happened. They were _impossible_ to deal with and were loud, rude, and rather obnoxious. Ray always felt so belittled and inadequate whenever he and Melinda had taken Sid to visit her side of the family, which consisted of his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. They lived out in some boondocks somewhere in Fabius, which was a good five hours from Hillwood. According to him, it was quite fortunate that it'd been a good three and a half years since he, Melinda, and Sid had made the visit out to the small town. The drive was so far away, and since Ray had never been on good terms with Melinda's parents or siblings, he hated the idea of spending a good portion of his time in the middle of traffic only to visit for two weeks with people who made him feel like a complete imbecile.

Once he was done with perusing Melinda's unfinished letter to her family, he turned to her and said tentatively, "Are you sure about doing this? Your family can be – "

"_Difficult?"_ Melinda demanded, turning away from the screen to stare daggers at him. _"I don't remember_ _**your parents**_ _thinking very highly of me either!"_

Ray looked downward and frowned as his mind remembered his own mother and father, who died in a car accident when Sid was eleven. He wondered what they would think of becoming great-grandparents under the circumstances in which his _own_ grandson had come into the world. Upon giving a deep sigh, he countered somewhat snidely, "Yeah, you never _exactly_ got along with them, but they never made you feel like a _complete moron_ or that you were something to be despised!"

Melinda looked frazzled as she pushed away from her husband and retorted, _"Well I'm_ _**sorry,**_ _Ray! I'm sorry that you don't like my family, but when you chose me you also chose them. I know they're hard to get along with._ _**Believe me when I tell you that I know firsthand what it's like!**__"_ She stared at him angrily, her grey eyes blazing before continuing, her voice now dramatically subdued and quiet, _"You don't know_ _**half**_ _of what they're capable of."_

Ray put a hand to his face in embarrassment before he placed it on Melinda's shoulder and gave it a gentle, reaffirming squeeze. He was embarrassed as he came to the realization that he truly knew _nothing_ as far as his in-laws were concerned. His wife had always been the one to protect her husband and son from the distress they caused; and even when she couldn't prevent _all _the put-downs or every instance of rudeness that came their way, she tried her damned hardest to do so, _especially_ when she'd taken the fall for him, not caring about what he family would think.

"No," Ray said, his voice forlorn as he looked to his wife while he still kept his hand firmly on her shoulder. "_I_ should be the one apologizing to _you… _because _you're_ going to be the one who gets Sid and I through this."

Melinda leaned back in her chair and exhaled loudly, surveying the contents of what she had written. Turning to Ray, said, "This isn't even about my parents, brothers, sisters, in-laws, nieces, and nephews. It's about _our son._ Ray, if we keep this a secret from my family, he'll _never_ learn what it means to _truly_ face the consequences of his actions!"

Ray felt his face harden as his wife stared at him pointedly and said, "Don't give me that look, either! I know you want to protect Sid from the backlash, but he won't ever become a real man unless he faces it! Besides, I'm sure it won't be half of what he put the mother of his child through… I hate to say it Ray, I really do, but… Sid shouldn't be surprised if – if the baby doesn't want to meet him when he's grown up." Melinda stared at Ray and had her hands out in a shrugging motion, not quite knowing what else to say or what to call her grandson since in legal terms, he _wasn't_ Sid's anymore and the moniker his adoptive parents bestowed upon him had yet to be revealed.

"I know," Ray said slowly. "I hate to think that our son has really set himself up for a world of hurt, Melinda… but that's _exactly_ what he's done."

Subsequent to staring at the incomplete letter for the final time, Melinda stood up from her seat at the desk and said, "I need a break from looking at that, Ray. Can we go out for just a little while?"

Ray, who only wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for an eternity after the extremely unlucky hand life had dealt him in such a brief period of time, could do nothing but agree to his wife's request. Melinda was _his world,_ and he wasn't going to blatantly turn her down even when it'd be more convenient for him to do so. Despite their little spat, he loved her more than anything.

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, interlocking her arm in his.

"Why don't we go for a walk to the City Lake?" she suggested, "Remember when we were dating and you would see how many frogs you could catch before the first star appeared in the sky?"

"And you would always take the opportunity to wish upon it?" Ray nodded, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"I remember you proposed to me there out on the lake in the old rowboat you rented. You popped the question just as the sun was setting," she said, her voice trailing off. "God, times were much simpler back then," she muttered. "It was before we lost nearly everything, before we were _grandparents…_ I remember my mother always telling me that my entire existence relied on me getting married and having children… she always made marriage out to be a fairytale complete with that blasted white picket fence. After all, she always her children to live 'The American Dream.'"

Ray shook his head, wondering how his mother-in-law could tell her children that marriage automatically meant living "Happily Ever After" when it really meant a lot of work, service, and going without because the love for the other person was too great to squander. Marriage was no picnic and to say otherwise was such a lie. Even God knew that "The American Dream" was totally fake. If it was so marvelous, then why was the United States in a recession? Why didn't "The Greatest Generation", the people who actually _lived_ that dream, pass it, along with their work ethic, down to their generations as opposed to birthing and becoming grandparents to two of the most vain, selfish eras the world had ever seen that even Ray himself hated admitting to being apart of?

"Life wasn't so hard back then," Ray admitted, "But I'd rather live the life I have now than live a less complex one without _you_ in it."

Ray heard an audible sniff from behind and turned around to face Neil and Nora, who still sat in their places on the couch, seemingly amused by him and Melinda for whatever reason.

"The two of you are just like two fifteen-year-olds," his older brother snorted as he laughed to himself while Nora couldn't stop smiling at the two of them.

"Look," Ray said in a no-nonsense tone of voice, "Melinda and I are going to go on a walk and we won't be gone for very long. We're going to check on Sid before we go, but we would appreciate it if you would see if he wants anything for dinner in an hour or so and make sure he's okay... will you do that?"

"Of course," Neil said, waving his hands as if pushing them out the door, "Go have some fun! I'll take care of Sidney."

Ray nodded as he and his wife made their way to Sid's room before taking the backdoor out. Their son's door was shut tight, but the slow, melancholy music the concerned father didn't recognize played loudly from within, seeping its way out of the cracks beneath and between the door. He knocked tentatively, but after moments of not receiving an answer, opened the entryway himself.

Sid's room was still a chaotic mess, with dirty laundry trailing the hardwood floors, along with a pair of dumbbells and some plates, cups, and silverware that held remnants of leftover midnight snacks. The blinds on his window were shut haphazardly and positioned at a weird angle. His desk was piled high with aged paperback books and old compact discs next to his old hand-me-down computer. His favorite green cap had taken residence atop the ancient processor. The end table to his left held an old lamp and his iPod stereo, from which the music played. The television on the miniature dresser across from his bed was turned off and posters of his favorite bands were plastered all over, covering the four obscurely colored salmon walls riddled with cracks and the indicators of peeling paint. Pictures of scantily clad girls leaning up against convertible cars or lying on the sand amidst an ocean view were there as well, much to Melinda's great disapproval. The door to Sid's bathroom was closed, but Ray didn't want to see it if his own bedroom was an utter fiasco. With trepidation, he and Melinda approached the bed, where they found their son lying in up to his covers with a pillow covering his head.

"Sid?" Ray asked, gently unearthing the pillow from his son's grasp, "Are you okay?"

His son took the pillow back stubbornly and said, still refusing to face his mother and father, _"I'm_ _**fine. Please**_ _leave me alone."_

"Do you need anything?" Melinda said gently, stroking her son's omnipresent hair, "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"_**No."**_

"Well," Ray said, scratching his head perplexedly, "Your mother and I will be out for a while. We'll have our cell phones with us, so just call if you need us… Uncle Neil and Aunt Nora will be here too, and they're willing to help you with anything that you need."

"_**Okay."**_

"I – I don't recognize the music you're playing," the worried father said, attempting to bond with his son, but to no avail. "Whose the artist?"

"_Death Cab For Cutie,"_ Sid mumbled, letting his guard down just a little bit. _"I don't listen to them unless I'm really sad about something."_ He eyed his father, implying that he only wanted to be by himself.

"Oh," Ray responded. "Call if you need us." He grabbed Melinda's hand and soon, the two of them were out the door and on their way to the City Lake. The walk to their old stomping grounds where the two of them spent the days of their courtship was filled with silence. The remnants of the city's many Labor Day parties still hung in the air while some still seemed intent on continuing well into the night. The smell of grilled cheeseburgers and hot dogs filled the air while those around them seemed to enjoy what days of summer they had left. The couple was careful to avoid walking past the Pataki residence, as neither Ray nor Melinda wanted to fathom what Helga was going through at the present time. The young woman was bound to take the whole ordeal much harder than Sid was, considering all that she had sacrificed for their son. They didn't really know Helga all that well save for a few exchanged greetings when the two of them weren't at work, but had garnered such great respect for her over the course of the past two days.

When Ray and Melinda reached the secluded lake at last, the two of them took residence on an old log right next to the water. They held hands and stared out into the vast body of water before them, not saying anything.

"It's been so long since we've last been here," Melinda spoke up. "Being here… it feels like a different lifetime."

Ray nodded. "It's funny what the years can do to you." Looking out across him, he said, "I wonder if those Goodyear tires are still rotting at the depths of the lake."

Melinda chuckled and said with a playful roll of the eyes, "You are _so_ bad, Raymond… polluting the lake with your coworkers for fun. Who does that, anyway? Have a contest to see who can chuck a tire the furthest?"

"Crazy people," Ray winked. "You knew what you were getting into."

"For better or for worse," Melinda shrugged, giving him a small smile. "You know I'll always love you, right?"

"You always have," the man replied, "Even when I've acted stupid…. I think that's what I love about you the most."

The husband and wife grinned wanly at each other, unable to forget their troubles, but grateful to know that they had the support of the other person to carry them through this trial. Ray knew that Melinda would be the one to see both him _and_ Sid through, and she would do a much better job at it than _he_ ever could. The least he could do was to be her support system and let her know that he would always be on her side. As they watched the sunset together, Ray turned to his wife, recalling the moments they spent here during their younger years, back when he still had a head full of thick, black tresses (Ironically, he didn't start going bald and pulling his hair out from stress until _after_ Sid was born), muscled arms and legs from working long hours fixing cars, a toned body, and a younger, smoothed complexion. He was much more agile back then, possessing the ability to run fast and stretch his body for millions of miles in any direction, which allowed him to catch all the frogs he wanted. While the man reminisced on days gone by, his wife became younger before his gaze. Her light brown locks fell to her waist in delicate, luscious curls as her grey eyes sparkled with wonder and amusement. The wrinkles disappeared from her face, her cheeks became colored and rosy, her lips tinted in pink. Her legs were long and slender, her body fit and long. It was just like the night he asked for her hand in marriage, that unforgettable evening when the first star arrived and she didn't have to wish upon it because her dream had come true.

As Ray took a sluggish, jagged breath that brought him back to reality, he found the night sky upon him, where a single star shone brightly through the darkness. Melinda had her eyes closed as she kept her hand intertwined with his, clearly wishing for something, perchance for things to get better.

Taking a cue from his wife, Ray wished upon the same star, longing for a better, simpler, and less confusing time… wanting things for his son to work out despite his actions… hoping that his grandson would grow up healthy and happy... praying that he would want to meet his Gifaldi relatives, but most of all, he was grateful that he had her.

Following the man's wish upon the solitary star in the night sky, he was brought back to reality. Ray found that he and his wife were no longer young and fit, living lives that were free from obstacles and blemish. Upon realizing that they were needed at home, Ray held stood up and held out his hand to his wife, who took it without hesitation, and they set out for their sojourn back home. At this point, the firmament above them was dotted with numerous, shining bright lights above them as they walked throughout the city. Very few of the holiday gatherings still occurred at this point, as most of the party goers had returned home long ago to rest up for tomorrow's workday. The air no longer smelled of grilled foods and was void of the noises that often accompanied such celebrations.

When Ray and Melinda stepped inside their house, the two of them found Neil and Nora sitting on the couch in each other's laps with old television reruns playing. Their eyes were glazed over somewhat and they seemed tired, though Ray highly doubted that his older brother knew what it meant to be _truly_ worn out; one never knew that feeling until he or she became a parent. Along with losing his hair, Ray had also lost countless hours of precious sleep over his son and was now bound to lose even more concerning the charge of his first grandchild.

"How's Sid doing?" he asked, bringing his brother and sister-in-law out of their television-induced stupor.

"He's in his room," Neil yawned as he released himself from his wife's embrace and stretched his arms upward into the air. "He's still a wreck and crying a lot, though he came out for dinner shortly after the two of you left. We ended up getting some falafel pitas and then we came back here. Sid stayed in his room for another half and hour before fiddling around on the computer for a while and heading out for about an hour or so."

"_Wait. You let him go out by_ _**HIMSELF?**__"_ Melinda demanded furiously, glaring at Neil and Nora. _"What the_ _**HELL**_ _were you thinking, letting him out of the house in his emotional state? ARE THE TWO OF YOU_ _**STUPID?**__"_

Nora put a hand to her head and sighed wearily.

"_Oh God,"_ she murmured, _"Neil, we're such_ _**idiots!**__"_

"Why?"

Ray eyed his older brother and with skepticism. The man always knew that his older brother lacked experience when it came to dealing with both children and teenagers, but this situation was so serious that he couldn't help but question just what in God's name went through his brother's mind when he let Sid out of the house after all that had transpired. Looking at him wearily, he said, "Neil… Melinda and I don't want Sid going out by himself for a _long time._ Not after what's happened, anyway. We just can't risk leaving him alone, because who knows what could happen?" After staring at Neil and his wife, who had nothing else to say, he inquired, "Where _did_ Sid go, anyway? Did he tell you?"

There was a part of him that didn't want to know what the answer to that question was.

"Sid told us that he went out to develop some photographs… they're on the desk right by the computer."

Ray nodded and turned to Melinda, who eyed him with wariness. The two of them walked toward the desk together, where they found copies of the letter Melinda dictated to be sent out to the relatives, along with duplicate pictures of Sid holding his son in a black and white tint. The amount of both the letters and pictures were in the original quantity that Melinda intended to send out to her parents and siblings in Fabius, though she never thought to send her family any pictures of her grandson.

At least not yet.

Picking up one of the letters, Ray gestured to Neil and Nora to join them at the kitchen table. The four of them sat down, curious to know what the letter said. Both Ray and Melinda didn't have to see the finished product without knowing that Sid had seen the letter and added to it, even going so far as to add any necessary revisions amidst Melinda's original draft. The teenager was lazy, but he had always been good at English and with words. It had always been a marvel to Ray why his son had trouble expressing his thoughts orally and ever needed Helga to tutor him in the subject of written word in the first place.

When Ray finished skimming through the letter himself, he took a deep breath and began reading aloud.

_Dear Family,_

_I dictate this letter to you in complete shock, still trying to process what has happened and how such events have transpired among my husband Ray, my son Sidney, and myself. Over the course of what has happened, I realize that it would be much easier for me not to inform you of the recent circumstances that have come to light in my immediate family. However, I know that to withhold such information would be extremely dishonest of me and unfair to you._

_It is with very mixed feelings I inform you that on August 30, at 6:48 P.M., a new member of the Gifaldi family was born. Sid fathered a child with one of his closest friends and lifelong school classmate. This news came as a most sudden, unexpected, and ironic "surprise" to Ray and I. The two of us were very disappointed to learn that our son knew of the pregnancy all along and not only kept it a secret from us, but also refused to help the mother of his child and provide the assistance she needed throughout this ordeal._

_After Ray and I were informed that we had a new grandchild, we had the opportunity to see him at the hospital, and enjoy the precious moments we had to spend with him. He was so beautiful, weighing seven pounds, fifteen ounces, and measuring in at twenty-three inches of length. He looked so much like Sid, with dark hair._

_Following several months' worth of deliberation and pondering, Helga, who is the mother of Sid's son, decided to pursue adoption for the child. Although this decision was contrary to what my son originally wanted, he understands that this decision did not include him due to his earlier lack of involvement. Along with Ray and I, Sid met the adoptive mother and father chosen for his boy prior to the original handoff. The three of us agree that adoption was the best option for all involved. It was with heartbreak and the pangs of remorseful sorrow that Sid signed both an agreement and the authorized papers that officially surrendered his rights of parenthood to his child. Although this has already proven to be a troubling time, my family has come to the agreement that Sid's son, who was named Matthew Caleb by his adoptive parents, will greatly benefit from the selfless choice his birthmother made to place him with a new family. Sid is confident that Matthew will grow up nurtured in a loving, healthy, and stable environment that he and Helga could not provide._

_Ray and I understand that our_ _**own**_ _child has committed some serious grievances by abandoning Helga and keeping this important information from us until now. Sid knows that he has hurt several people through his poor decisions and will be dealing with the repercussions for the rest of his life. Sid is well aware of the fact that he has disappointed a lot of people and that it will take much time and healing before the trust he has lost will be gained back again, if it ever will be at all. He also understands the likelihood that Matthew will grow up resentful of him and might refuse to let Sid into his life once he comes of age._

_I know that this information will be hard for you to process, as it was for Ray and I. Our hearts and feelings, both hurt and broken, will heal with time, tears, and support. At this time, the Gifaldi family calls upon you to help us get through this troubling ordeal. Your time, service, and compassion is greatly appreciated and needed._

_I am immensely grateful for the time you have taken to read this letter and at this time, can only find the comfort that my family, both immediate and extended, are capable of providing._

_With love and understanding,_

_~Melinda, with some input from Ray and Sid_

Ray took a deep breath and put down the lone piece of paper, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"_Matthew,"_ he said, his voice shaky. _"My grandson's name is Matthew… I wonder what Sid thought of it."_

Melinda sighed as she picked up the letter to read over herself. Looking it over with an eye of approval, she stated, "I don't know how Sid feels about his son's name… in fact, _I_ don't even know how I feel about it." After putting the correspondence back onto the table and wiping her watery eyes, she added, "However, I know that there's _no excuse_ for Sid's terrible English grade last semester. I… I don't know how he did it, but he somehow managed to intermingle what I wrote along with what he did and make it into one, cohesive letter."

Neil nodded and remarked, turning to his sister-in-law, "It was a beautiful letter, but are you _really_ going to send it out to your family? They can be a lot to handle."

"We _have_ to, Neil," Ray responded, taking his wife's hand. "The fact that Sid went in and added _so much_ to it shows that he grasps a full knowledge of what he has done and must face the consequences of his actions head on." He turned to his wife who gave him a sad, but grateful look, which showed that she knew he was on her side and always would be.

His brother nodded and commented, "It was interesting to see that Sid put _so much_ details about his child into the letter and that he even _wants_ to include a picture."

Nora agreed with her husband and added, "Did you ever plan on sending them one?"

"Not right away," Melinda answered, "But if Sid wants me to send a picture of him with Matthew out with each of the letters, then I don't see the harm in doing it."

"I'm sure it seems really baffling to you that he would _want_ to share that part of his life with other people, _especially_ with those our family doesn't normally get along with. However, his son was a beautiful baby and Sid wanted everyone to know that the Little Guy looked like him," Ray reasoned as he stared at his wife, brother, and sister-in-law, who all looked at him silence. "He did," the man lamented, shaking his head. "It was just like holding Sid for the first time."

Melinda understood what her husband meant as Neil and Nora tried to process what they had just been told. After a few moments of quiet, in which no one knew what to say, everyone got up from the table to retire for the night. The stillness continued hanging in the air as Ray and Melinda got ready for bed and turned out the light, attempting to retire for the night, but to no avail.

Ray stayed awake, staring up into the darkness as he continued to take in the day's events. During his younger years, twenty-four hours seemed like such a _long_ period of time, but now that he was _older,_ and a _grandfather_ at that, he now understood how there was so much to do and take in over such a miniscule period of time.

In what seemed to take just mere moments, Ray gained a grandson and had him ripped away almost immediately afterwards, and it had been devastating… but so right at the same time, since he knew that Matthew would grow up in a better environment and with parents who were capable of not only loving him, but of being able to fully provide for him as well. Through it all, Ray could only hope and pray that he could see Matthew grow up, even if he only did so through pictures, letters, and hopefully through recordings as well.

Turning to his wife, the man saw that she also had trouble getting to sleep, as she tossed and turned fitfully on her side of the bed. He touched her shoulder and sighed, knowing that this the two of them would face many sleepless nights for the next eighteen years – as Sid dealt with the repercussions of what he'd done and would have to face his extended family, friends, classmates, and teachers, doing all he could to redeem himself to Matthew, and agonizing over whether or not he would even _want_ to let his biological father into this life. Though self-inflicted, the whole ordeal was already proving to be a cruel, ironic twist of fate. This was because once Sid got past the first eighteen years, he would possibly have to deal with wondering how he would go on if his son chose not to meet him once he grew up. Hell, would Matthew even _want_ Sid to have pictures and letters detailing his life sent to him?

"I can't sleep," Ray breathed. "I have the feeling that _our grandson,_ who now lives on the other side of the country, will be the one keeping me up all night."

The beside light flickered on as Melinda countered, "Don't count on it, Ray. If anything, Sid will cause you to lose your mustache hair… well, what's _left_ of it anyway with how everything's played out."

Ray suppressed a chuckle as he put an arm around his wife and kissed her.

"Why did that comment _not_ surprise me?" He shook his head yet again and said, "I'm just worried about him… about Sid. I'm worried about Matthew too. Will he sleep through the night? Will he be colicky like Sid was when he was a baby? God, what's his personality going to be like? Just think about it, Melinda! It's a wonder our son knocked up Helga in the first place, since she _never_ lets _anyone_ cross her path without getting the last word in. Then, there's Sid, whose… who is _so_ insecure and has trouble letting other people into his life, _trusting_ people, and asking for help. God knows that both those kids are _way_ to stubborn than is healthy!"

Melinda shrugged and said, "Environment is a huge part of it as well, Ray. Kevin and Christine are good people who are educated, intelligent, and loving. They're not perfect, no one is! However, I'm confident that they'll raise Matthew right and that he'll grow up to be happy and well-adjusted. Helga did the right thing, Ray. I… I just wish that Sid would've done so a lot earlier."

"Me too," Ray sighed. Leaning back into his pillows, he suggested, "Let's try to get _some sleep,_ okay?"

His wife responded by kissing him in return, turning out the light, and draping her arms over him while allowing for her head to rest on his chest. Ray yawned and let his arms lie atop her back before he closed his eyes in return.

However, what momentary peace the seasoned couple had only just retrieved was short lived when the door to their bedroom opened and shut somewhat loudly. The two of them opened their eyes as Melinda fumbled for the light the second time. When it was on, the two of them saw their fifteen-year-old boy dressed in green, black, and white striped pajamas standing before their bed. His hands were clasped tightly together and positioned close to his chest. Tears were present in his eyes and on his cheeks while his mouth was positioned in a sorrowful frown. Sid took several, unstable breaths and whimpered as he tried to talk to both Ray and Melinda.

"Sid, what is it?" the worried father asked gently. "What's wrong?"

After letting a few unsupported cries out, Sid asked as his voice trembled,

"Can… can I – I sleep with the two of you tonight?" He choked back a sob while waiting for an answer and looked down, humiliated at his request.

"Of course you can, Sweetheart," Melinda said, reverting to the term of endearment she used when Sid was little. She looked at Ray and motioned for him to scoot away from the center of the bed along with her and allow for their son to join him.

Like a young child, Sid crawled into the middle of the bed without any hesitation on his part and sobbed into Ray's shirt while being embraced by both his parents.

"It's… it's going to be okay," Ray kept repeating out loud as he rubbed his son's back while he continued crying, long after Melinda had turned out the light.

"It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay…"

The man kept saying those words even though he didn't know if they were true or not. It made him recall the times when Sid was small and would rush into their bed after having a nightmare. Back then, Ray and Melinda were able to make their little boy's nightmares go away after letting him know that what he experienced wasn't real and just a figment of his imagination. A night with his parents, the people who could _anything_, and who had the power to protect him from harm's way, would save him from whatever trial was in his way.

However, their boy wasn't so little anymore and they were just people themselves, with flaws and human failings. Such things reinforced the fact that the two of them were a lot less powerful and perfect than what the eyes of an innocent child made them out to be.

This time around, Ray and Melinda could not save Sid from the current, lifelong obstacle he faced.

It was _not_ a result of the make-believe, but was in fact very real.

Worst of all, the nightmare was only just beginning.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the song "The Places You'll Go" performed by Majandra Delfino. I also do not own the lyrics. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	16. The Harder They Come

**Chapter XVI: The Harder They Come**

_And I keep on fighting for the things I want_  
_Though I know that when you're dead you can't_  
_But I'd rather be a free man in my grave_  
_Than living as a puppet or a slave_

_So as sure as the sun will shine_  
_I'm gonna get my share now of what's mine_  
_And then the harder they come the harder they'll fall, one and all_

~Jimmy Cliff, "The Harder They Come"~

* * *

**I**

Melinda O'Flaherty Gifaldi grew up in Fabius, New York as the eleventh of twelve children in a conservative, devout Irish-Catholic family. Her upbringing consisted of strict family rules that were to be adhered to with unfaltering obedience, frequent church attendance every week, communions, confessions, prayers, a God-fearing environment, and the notion that she was never good enough. No matter how hard Melinda tried, there was always _someone_ who was better than her, whether it be in athletics, dancing, intelligence, music, or spirituality, _someone_ in her family was _always_ better than her in _something._

Her oldest siblings, Luke and Sarah, were extremely smart and gifted with great intellectual depth. Like Melinda, they found their mother and father's methods of child raising, which consisted of the older children raising the younger ones when the parents had enough, constant belittlement, and feelings of undeserved guilt, to be oppressive. Luke and Sarah both worked hard in school and received scholarships to some big-name universities far away from Fabius. The two of them became research scientists, abandoned their Catholic roots, and never visited unless it was for Christmastime.

The first set of twins, Peter and James, had always been joined at the hip. They did _everything_ together, such as playing on the same soccer teams all throughout their childhood and adolescence, participating in church as altar boys, joining all the same clubs at school, and choosing to go into the ministry together. From what Melinda understood, the two of them served as ministers at the Catholic Church in Fabius, were both married and had eight children each.

Mark was a gifted musician, having performed in church functions for as long as Melinda could remember. He attended Julliard University on scholarship. He now taught at the prestigious school himself after performing numerous stints with the London and New York Philharmonic Orchestras and in Carnegie Hall over the span of eighteen years. Though there was little distance between them, she never really talked to him save for the occasional phone call and Christmas card. Much to the horror of their parents, Mark came out as gay after his university graduation and didn't cease to cut him off. He seemed happy, nonetheless. Shortly after Ray and Melinda wed, Mark married a fellow musician he performed with in London named Henry. They had a twelve-year-old daughter and a ten-year-old son, who were born via a surrogate mother and the usage of Mark's sperm for their daughter and Henry's for their son.

Richard, John, and Stephen were gifted on the football, soccer, and baseball fields, having received various sports scholarships to play for different universities across the country. Sadly, Stephen's future in athletics was cut short when he suffered severe injuries during a football game his senior year of high school. With no means receive a higher education due to his poor grades, Stephen stayed in Fabius and worked as the manager of the town's small grocery store and coached various little league sports teams. He married a local girl, had six sons, and wanted them to get out of Fabius because _he_ never could. In so doing, he pushed them to be the best at absolutely everything, from their schooling to their extra-curricular activities. Meanwhile, Richard and John's university years took them out to Oregon and Washington. They shunned the conservative values they'd grown up with. Richard studied Political Science, and since then, acted as a campaign manager for all the democratic politicians in his area of Eugene, Oregon. Due to the already liberal environment of the city, he experienced much success. Richard was divorced, but not before he had three children with his ex-wife and was granted full custody. John studied Kinesiology and Sports Medicine. He currently owned his own Physical Therapy practice in the Seattle area and had three children of his own as well, though his marriage still remained in tact.

In stark contrast to Peter and James, who were never seen without the other person, Melinda couldn't be any different from her twin sister, Mary. Mary was five minutes older than Melinda and never ceased to gloat about the fact that she was Melinda's "big sister." She was very girly, refined, all about appearances, and was very much seen as the apple of her father's eye. Melinda's twin was the one all the guys wanted to date in high school and _no one_ could get enough of her. Mary was captain of the cheerleading squad, Homecoming _and_ Prom Queen, and always brought home a perfect report card. She studied English at Syracuse University and married Patrick Reilly, the oldest son of the richest couple in all of Fabius. Patrick worked as the town's attorney while Mary stayed home with their five children.

After Melinda came the baby of the family, Alice. She was their mother's favorite, spoiled rotten by both her parents, and because she had never known anything else, Melinda's youngest sister returned to Fabius after attending Colgate University and was married with four children.

Melinda, who wanted nothing more than to get away from Fabius, took off the day after her high school graduation. She didn't have the best grades and often felt talentless and as though there wasn't a place for her in the superficial small town. After spending four years working full-time as a busgirl at the only (half) decent restaurant in Fabius, Melinda had money to travel, and she was going to use it! Her first stop was England, finding fascination in the architecture of Buckingham Palace, pondering the greats entombed at Westminster Abbey, listening to Mark perform in the Royal Festival Hall, walking down Penny Lane and listening to the music of The Beatles in the very city where they became a successful band. She learned a few French phrases, looked at artwork in the Louvre, and tried escargot in Paris. Melinda rode a gondola, visited the Trevi Fountain, and ate some of the world's finest cuisine while in Italy before going wild in Germany during Oktoberfest. Melinda danced in the hills of Austria just like Maria and the Von Trapps, ate Swiss chocolate and embraced the Alps in Switzerland, and spent some time in Spain before finally returning to her home state. Upon returning to New York, she stopped in Manhattan and Brooklyn, and went to the Big Apple, where she visited the Strawberry Fields Memorial.

It was with reluctance that Melinda soon realized that she needed to return to Fabius after her world travels. She needed to figure out what it was she wanted to do with her life and save some additional money prior to going through with her plans. After spending the last of her money on a Greyhound Bus ticket headed back home, Melinda was sitting at the bus station perusing an art book she bought in Milan when her grey eyes locked with _his_ brown ones for the first time.

He had just entered the bus station, his raven locks messy and askew, wearing tight jeans, a white shirt, and black work boots. The man had a slender build, a lean face, and a rather distinctive nose.

Smiling at her with his thin mouth, he inquired with a thick New York accent,

"Italy, huh?"

Closing the book unwillingly, Melinda replied, "Yes, Italy. I just got back from trekking around Europe. I went there and also travelled to France, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, and Spain."

"_Wow,"_ the man remarked coolly, his voice impressed. He took a seat next to Melinda and asked, "What was your favorite place?"

"It's hard to choose just one," Melinda responded, "But Switzerland has chocolate that is to _die_ for!" Pulling a few of the confectionary treats from her purse, she held them out to him and said, "Would you like some?"

The man nodded and stuffed all the chocolates into his mouth. When he finished eating, he held out his hand to her and said, "I'm Ray. Ray Gifaldi."

"Melinda O'Flaherty," she returned, shaking his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. What brings you to the bus station?"

"I'm picking up my older brother, Neil," Ray said. "He's visiting me for a week from the Monterey area, but since the traffic over at the airport is a _nightmare,_ I suggested that he take a bus over here so we could both avoid all the pandemonium. We're headed back home once his bus gets here. What about you?"

Melinda gave a loud sigh and said, "I'm headed back there as well."

"Where's that?"

She rolled her eyes and remarked, "_Fabius._ It's the biggest cow town if I've ever seen one."

Ray grimaced and remarked, "You didn't come across as someone who came from a place like _that._ Why are you going back there, anyway?"

"It's where home is," Melinda answered. "Plus, I need work, money, and a plan for my life… even though Fabius is the _last place_ I want to go."

"Then why are you headed there?" Ray queried her. "Surely you can come up with a plan someplace else? It sounds like you _hate_ Fabius!"

"_God knows it,"_ she said icily. _"Being brought up in a home where you're always belittled, made to feel guilty, and like you're never_ _**good enough**_ _for_ _**anyone."**_ Eyeing Ray, Melinda added, _"Most of my siblings got out of there as soon as they could, but a lot of them are_ _**still**_ _difficult to deal with."_

The man sitting next to Melinda looked at her for a moment before his large chocolate eyes widened and a grin formed on his lips. Staring at her earnestly, he suggested, "You don't want to go back to Fabius, so why don't you stay with me for a while?"

"_Shack up with_ _**you?**__"_ Melinda snorted, _"We've only_ _**just**_ _met!"_

"Look," Ray said, "I know it sounds really far-fetched… but you don't want to go back to some tiny little place that you'll never get out of if you stay there. I'm based in Hillwood, which is a city just a half hour from here. It's not Manhattan or New York City, but it has its charms and I'm sure that it's _way_ bigger than Fabius. Plus, they call it the _Lovebird's Paradise_," he winked as Melinda rolled her eyes yet again and let out a small chuckle. "I have my own place and an extra room. I work as a mechanic in a garage next to a doctor's office that _just_ so happens to need a receptionist… and if you really want to, you can take classes at Hillwood Community if you're into all that academic stuff."

Melinda sat there and pondered Ray's offer as her bus began boarding, realizing that this one decision could change everything. She could either go back to Fabius and possibly never again have another opportunity to escape, or she could go with Ray.

If Melinda went back to her hometown, she would have no problem securing a job or money. She could take her time in formulating a plan and figuring out what it was she wanted to do with her life. On the other hand, she would also face the constant disparagement of _both_ her parents who already wondered what the hell she was doing with her life and made no hesitation to question the sentiment to everyone back in Fabius.

And again, there was always the possibility that she would never leave.

However, Melinda would also have a means of employment, financial assets, and a place to stay if she went with Ray. She could even go to _college_ in Hillwood, something that her mother always told her she wasn't good enough for. Besides, Ray was offering her the opportunity to get out of the blasted cow town she'd grown up in forever and opportunities like that didn't come by often.

The only drawback was that she had only just been introduced to this Ray Gifaldi moments ago, and for all Melinda knew, he could be a psychopath… but he didn't come across as such, and his motives really _did_ seem genuine.

The last call for Melinda's bus was announced over the loudspeaker just as Neil's bus arrived.

"Think about it, okay?" Ray proposed, giving Melinda's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he ran up and greeted his older brother. From a distance, she watched as he greeted his older brother. From what she saw, Neil's features were similar to Ray's, save his muscular build, smaller nose, and full lips. He turned around and waved at Melinda, who smiled and waved back, deciding to take Ray up on his offer.

Once Melinda settled down at Ray's place and secured the receptionist job next to the garage Ray worked at, she called her mother and father. Naturally, they were furious that Melinda wasn't returning to Fabius, but to the contrary, she'd never been happier. She _loved_ Hillwood City and couldn't get enough of the metropolis' rich history, mom and pop stores, the friendly neighbors, the large population, and the fact that there was so much _more_ to do. It also helped that she and Ray lived close to Manhattan and the Big Apple, which allowed them to go there and party whenever time permitted them to do so. Her new job paid well and allowed for her to enroll in classes at Hillwood Community College. Ray provided a steady source of income and was good to her. Soon, they found themselves slowly, but surely, falling in love.

Shortly after she received her Associates degree in Psychology and secured a job at the government building in Hillwood, Ray proposed marriage to Melinda. When she called home telling her mother and father the news, they were _not_ happy. Nevertheless, they still insisted on meeting the man who was to be her husband. Ray and Melinda made the drive out to Fabius with trepidation, only to find that little had changed since she left. Save for the fact that Melinda now had several in-laws, nieces, and nephews, her first visit home in three years made her realize _why_ she left in the first place, and why the majority of her siblings tried to get away from Fabius as well despite the fact that most of them retained their condescending attitudes toward her.

When the visit proved to be a disaster, Ray and Melinda left, deciding that they wouldn't return to her hometown unless there was a _true_ family emergency; and so it was in defiance of what her parents said that Ray and Melinda were married at the Hillwood Chapel and had a small, but nice reception thrown by her in-laws afterward. They didn't _exactly_ get along with Melinda, but her mother and father-in-law treated her better than most of her _own_ family did. All of Ray's family and friends were present, save for one member of _her_ family who acted as the Maid of Honor. It was bittersweet for Melinda that the majority of her family wasn't there to celebrate her special day, but looking into Ray's eyes and knowing that he was hers made it all worthwhile. Sid was born the following year and life was good in the Gifaldi home. Melinda still sent the obligatory phone call back home and kept in touch with her siblings exclusively out of principle, but if anything, Rebecca O'Flaherty was the one who kept the entire family together.

Rebecca was number nine of twelve of the family and only two years separated her from Melinda and Mary. She was literally the glue that held the entire O'Flaherty clan together, acting as peacemaker whenever the contention in the household got out of hand. Like Luke and Sarah, Rebecca was ambitious and disagreed with her mother and father's parenting. However, she had a heart and didn't desert her family in the manner her two oldest siblings had, but rather acted as their support system. Not only did Rebecca come to Hillwood and support Melinda when she married Ray, but she was also the first person Mark came out to. After Stephen was harmed, his hopes for leaving his small hometown dashed, Rebecca provided on-the-clock care for him all while she kept up with her own grades and extracurricular activities as a high school junior. Like Melinda, her older sister high-tailed it out of Fabius as soon as she could, but made frequent phone calls and visited her siblings whenever she was able. Since the wedding, Rebecca saw Melinda, Ray, and Sid a few times and was the sibling who called the most. She worked as a travel writer and was often busy voyaging around the world.

The last Melinda heard, Rebecca was out in some remote part of the earth with no Internet access or phone service. She doubted her sister had received the letter and didn't think Rebecca would call. Hell, Melinda didn't know if she _wanted_ her sister to call her or not after all the backlash she received from her parents and siblings. Her mother and father spent over an hour grilling her on her "bad parenting" and how they couldn't believe they were _already_ great-grandparents. They ranted and raved over how irresponsible Sid was but felt that he took the easy way out by choosing adoption. Peter and James, her conservative older brothers, expressed their disappointment and chose to dedicate their next sermon on the evils of fornication. Stephen told Melinda that she better be grateful it hadn't happened in Fabius, because Sid wouldn't ever be able to get out of that cow town if he'd gotten someone pregnant there. Luke and Sarah were completely apathetic. Mark, Richard, and John admitted to being disappointed in Sid and his cowardice, but at least acknowledged the fact that his son went to a good home. Mary and Alice, who held tight to the traditional values they were raised on, echoed their parents' sentiments, but were much more malicious in doing so.

Melinda hung up and phone and sighed, having just gotten off the phone with Alice. She sat on the couch and closed her eyes, trying her hardest not to think about anything while Neil and Nora prepared Parmesan chicken for dinner. As irritating as they could be sometimes, the two of them had really stepped up in trying to help the Gifaldi family get through. That morning, when Ray returned to work and had Sid come with him, Neil and Nora went to the grocery store and stocked their refrigerator, freezer, and cupboards with fresh produce and lean meats. They got rid of all the junk and processed food in the house, thoroughly cleaned both the inside and outside of the house, bought flowers for the table, and brightened the overall feel by opening the curtains and blinds. Melinda didn't want to admit it, but the house looked _so_ much better than it had before they arrived. Grateful for their service, she opted to get a few moments of rest in before Ray and Sid returned home for dinner when the phone rang again.

"_God damn it,"_ the woman muttered cynically as she stood up. She cursed her parents and her siblings who either acted condescendingly toward her or who remained apathetic. She even cursed Sid, her own child, for the can of worms he opened.

Melinda picked up the phone after a few minute's hesitation, she mumbled a weary, _"Hello?"_ into the receiver.

"_Melinda?"_ the voice was anxious and worried. _"It's Becca."_

The woman gasped in shock and cried out, "H-how do you have p-phone service?"

"I have my ways," her sister responded dryly. "Mom and Dad told me what happened… and I wish I could be there to help you, Ray, and Sid… I really do. If you need me, I can take time off work and catch the first plane out to where the three of you are."

Melinda sighed and told Rebecca, "Ray's older brother and his wife have been here taking care of everything… I really do appreciate your offer, but I don't want you to drop everything for me. We're… we're doing as well as can be expected."

"_Are you sure?"_ she questioned, _"Don't you_ _**dare**_ _lie to me, Melinda!"_

"You know I wouldn't," Melinda said darkly, "Not when you can see through everyone in our family. Right now Ray and I are just trying to figure out what we can do to help Sid. He's a mess, Rebecca."

"Of course he is!" her sister countered, her voice blunt. "Sid has been a complete idiot throughout all of this, his son is being raised by another family, and he'll always wonder whether or not Matthew will want to let him into his life." After a significant pause, she asked, "Have you and Ray thought about sending Sid to a counselor?"

"We… we don't have that kind of money, Rebecca."

"Then let me help you," her sister said. "I've been researching child psychologists in your area – "

"Aren't you just tech-savvy with the brand new iPhone you can use to browse the Internet _and_ speak with people at the same time?" Melinda queried, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"_Anyway,"_ Rebecca remarked, ignoring her younger sister's comment, "Doctor Irene Bliss is the best in your area. I really think Sid would benefit with having someone to talk to about this… someone who can help him overcome his insecurities and sort out his issues. I think it would really help him, especially as he gets older."

"You read my mind," the exhausted woman admitted, "But Becca, Ray and I –"

"_Melinda, swallow your_ _**damn pride**_ _and_ _**please**_ _let me help you, Ray, and Sid. In fact, my secretary just called her office and the receptionist there is setting up a date and time for a preliminary appointment."_

"You – "

"Does Friday the fourteenth work? Four-thirty in the afternoon?"

"Y-yes…" Melinda confessed, letting her voice trail off. "That works perfectly. Th-thank you for doing this, Rebecca. It really _does_ mean a lot."

"You're welcome," Rebecca responded. Another pause came between the two sisters before she asked, "Are you doing anything for Thanksgiving?"

Melinda sighed and answered, "Ray and I haven't talked about it… why?"

"The three of you should spend the holiday with Mark and I. We're getting together this year and would love to have you. Plus, it's not far from where you live and I don't come to the States as much as I used to."

"Mark and I don't really talk," Melinda sighed. "He wasn't _nearly_ as nice as you were when he learned about what Sid had done."

"He wasn't horrible though, was he?"

"No."

Rebecca took a deep breath and said, "Look, I'm not going to force you to into anything, but it's a suggestion. I would love to see you and your family again… at least think about it, okay?"

"I will," the woman said resignedly. "Thanks again, Becca."

"Don't be a stranger," her sister admonished before hanging up.

Melinda drew a deep exhale as she stood up and put the cordless phone back onto its dock. She was about to return to the couch when her son came in through the front door, wearing a tired expression on his face as his book bag hung around his shoulders.

"Why aren't you with your father?" the woman demanded. "He's not due home for a half an hour!"

"Relax, Mom," Sid grumbled, "I just left early; being at the garage is _boring _when there aren't any customers in."

The woman glared at her son angrily and said, _"Do you seriously expect me to relax after you got a girl pregnant?"_ When Sid didn't respond, she snapped, _"Go to your room, Sid. I… I can't think about this right now."_

Instead of arguing with her like he usually did, Sid just looked at his mother with a forlorn look in his eyes and retreated to his room, shutting the door behind him with quietness.

Melinda sat on the couch slumped over and buried her face in her hands, hating everything that had transpired. Worst of all, it made her wonder not only about her state of mind, but also about how she was handling this predicament that had befallen her family.

_Was she really_ _**that**_ _helpless?_

**II**

Each day was one of mourning.

Everywhere Helga looked there was always a cruel reminder of what she had given up. Happy couples strolled past her house with car seats and strollers in tow, happily showing off their posterity for the entire world to see. Whenever that was the case, Helga yearned to rush outside and ask those complete strangers if she could hold their baby, even if only for a moment.

Helga _longed_ for the opportunity to hold a child in her arms and the fill the painful, heart-wrenching void she felt _that_ badly. It made her yearn for the time where she wouldn't have to feel the pain so acutely. Meanwhile, _A Pea in the Pod_ and the other maternity clothing stores at the malls in Hazelnut City and Arouet County held fifty percent off sales all throughout the week. Two new boutiques that exclusively sold items for infants and new mothers opened in Hillwood and celebrities seemed to be popping out babies left in right as stated in the tabloids. Such events made it seem as though everyone else was being graced with the blessings that came with having children except for her.

Worst of all were the physical reminders, which caused Helga to lament that her body no longer looked the way it did nine months ago. The young woman was never a person to give her physical appearance much thought, but she hated seeing the excess rippled skin of her stomach covered with coiled red and purple stretch marks. Her pale legs adorned bumpy blue varicose veins, which she kept covered with long pairs of dark-colored sweatpants in defiance of the still hot temperatures present in Hillwood City. From a mile away, Helga could easily identify the weight she gained not just in her stomach, but also in her face, arms, hips, thighs, and legs. It felt as though losing the baby weight was going to take forever because of Doctor Warner's orders limiting her physical activity. Despite this, Helga knew her body would never look the same again even after returning to her pre-pregnancy weight. In addition, the young woman's face was still riddled in acne and because her hormones were in a never-ending flux, it wasn't leaving any time soon.

The medication prescribed to the teenager with the intent of stopping her milk production proved itself futile even as Doctor Warner upped the dosage within the first few days of her return home. Helga habitually found herself inhaling the odor of hot milk dribbling out of her breasts, taunting her with the knowledge that she had nutrients to provide, but no one to give them to. In a cruel, similar vein to her final month of gestation, the young woman learned the hard way that it was simply easier for her to wear the older, rattier maternity shirts and bras buried deep within the confines of her dresser drawers. This was done so she wouldn't ruin the nicer ones she owned.

The substantial evidence of a full-term pregnancy made itself manifest, along with the scars of a brutal labor and delivery that still made her body ache uncomfortably on a daily basis. After the fact, Helga came home empty handed and with nothing to show for it but a piece of her heart and soul missing.

Helga knew with all she possessed that relinquishing her son to his adoptive parents was the right thing to do. At first, she felt some semblance of peace by knowing that she loved her little boy so much, that she willingly gave him to those who were better capable of giving him a great life. Yet in spite of those truths, the selfish part of her regretted it.

Even so, there was nothing she could do to change things, and so it was with disdain that Helga looked at herself in the floor-length mirror of her bedroom. Still wearing her backwards navy blue cap over pigtails, the young woman wore a long black shirt, black sweatpants with bright pink stripes down the sides, and white scuffed up Vans. The blonde adolescent still found jeans to be awkward and itchy on her. Nonetheless, she hated having to start her sophomore year of high school wearing the same maternity clothes she ended her final month of pregnancy with. Helga wondered if she should've taken her obstetrician's advice and opted for homeschooling for _at least_ one semester simply for the comfort factor. However, the young woman knew that being at home would allow for her mind to wander, and if she did that, she wouldn't be able to go on. The teenager still retained the course schedule she signed up for the previous year, relying on all the homework, studying, and tests her Honors and Advanced Placement classes would bestow upon her to keep busy.

It was at her request that Arnold and his parents leave for Europe on the same day as the official hand-off. Though her beloved initially refused because he wanted to be there for the young woman, Helga held her ground. Even though it hurt, the teenager knew that he shouldn't be held back because _she_ was in for an arduous physical and emotional recovery. However, the adolescent felt that what she needed more than company was her space. Whitney and Phoebe knew better than to pry, and her family tried their hardest not to do so. The teenager knew that the intentions of her parents and sister were noble and truly appreciated them, but often felt like she was being smothered. Helga stayed in her room, finding her best companionship in her books and writing poetry, which had always been therapeutic for her. Arnold sent her a card upon arriving in London, but Helga had yet to respond to it.

The young woman didn't know if she should or not.

Before having her father take her to school, the teenager took the recommended dose of medication as set by Doctor Warner, and then some. She couldn't risk lactating where _everyone_ could see it.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" her father asked worriedly as she descended the stairs with her backpack swung over her shoulders, "You don't _have_ to go through with it, Helga. Your mother and I, Olga, your friends and teachers at school… _everyone_ would understand if you felt the need to take some time off."

"I'm sure," Helga responded, her voice resolute. "I need to keep myself occupied."

Her father only responded by putting an arm around his daughter's shoulders as the two of them got into the car and headed toward Hillwood High School. The young woman put on Mötley Crüe's _Theatre of Pain_, rolled down the windows, and blasted the music loudly as her father drove her to school. Luckily, Bob didn't seem to care about her differing tastes in music, but managed to hide it really well if he felt otherwise.

When his car pulled up towards the front steps, where Phoebe stood waiting for Helga, Bob turned to his girl and said, "Call if you need _anything,_ okay? I'll be here before you know it."

"Thanks," Helga said, giving her father a small smile before getting out of the car. She gave Phoebe a wave and the two of them walked into the halls of Hillwood High School together. Gerald soon joined them and they walked to Chemistry together, which was the only class the three of them shared. Though Phoebe was enrolled in English II Honors and Advanced Placement World History like Helga was, their classes took place at different times. However, the young woman was grateful that she could start her day off with her best friend. She and Gerald, along with most of the P.S. 118 crew, rallied around Helga and warded off anyone who queried after her and asked whether or not she'd had her baby yet, along with what her plans were.**  
**  
"_It's_ _**none**_ _of your business,"_ Rhonda told all the inquisitors during the passing periods and morning nutrition break, her voice filled with sharpness. _"Helga will tell all of you how she spent her summer when_ _**she's**_ _ready to do so."_ In addition, the fashionable heiress insisted on escorting Helga to her classes along with Phoebe and Gerald. Everything seemed to be going smoothly thus far, with her teachers simply going over the syllabus in each of her classes. All seemed fine until the young woman caught wind of Connie, Maria, and Ruth, three senior girls whispering slanderously about her. Upon hearing their rude comments, Helga looked down in humiliation and folded her arms across her chest, not wanting to face them. **  
**  
Rhonda looked around, making sure there were _plenty_ of people in the hallway before making her pronouncement. She walked up to the three rude gossiping girls and said loudly, _"Excuse me, but you have_ _**no**_ _place saying that Helga Pataki is a_ _**whore**_ _when the three of you change boyfriends and sexual partners faster than a hooker on a good day!"_

The hallway became silent as the senior girls looked around, embarrassed.

They knew better than to mess with Rhonda, because her family had _everything._ The socialite wasn't heartless and knew better than to destroy other people's lives with the fact that she was well off, had an established reputation at this school due to dating upperclassmen football players, and possessed a whole host of connections. Yet when Rhonda looked at Connie, Maria, and Ruth, who looked as though they were dressed to go clubbing, and thought of the cruel words the three of them said about Helga, she could make an exception.

"_Please leave,"_ the dark-haired young woman told them with an icy edge to her voice, _"Some of us actually_ _care_ _about our futures, realize the importance of an education, and would like to get to our classes now."_ _**  
**_  
"_Fine,"_ Maria snarled as she rolled her eyes and beckoned to her two friends. _"Let's go, chicas. We have better things to do than waste our time here in_ _**school.**__"_

"Thank you," Helga whispered to Rhonda as the three girls walked off.

"You're welcome," the heiress responded as she pulled a compact mirror from her purse. "Crisis has been averted," she announced as she reapplied her lipstick. Turning her head toward Helga as she snapped the reflector closed, she added, "As long as we keep Sid away from you, we'll be fine. I figure he's the _last_ person you want to interact with right now. He's such an douchefuck."

Helga chuckled at Rhonda's colorful choice of words and admitted, "I'm just glad that I've made it this far."

Rhonda nodded as she interlocked arms with Helga on the left as her best friend joined in on the right.

"You're going to get through this," Phoebe assured her as they made their way toward the young woman's fourth period class. "After this, it's just lunch and two more classes and you're home free."

"The girls are meeting for lunch at the tables by the library," Rhonda said once they reached the door to Helga's classroom, "Except for Phoebe, because Gerald's taking her out today." Phoebe giggled before giving both Helga and Rhonda hugs before heading off to her class. "Don't hesitate to call if you need me," the socialite told Helga as she kissed her on both cheeks like the French did and bade her "Au revoir!"

Helga waved as Rhonda left for her next class and looked down, hoping that everything would continue to go smoothly.

Lunch proved to be an uncomplicated affair, as Helga sat with Rhonda, Nadine, Sheena, and Lila. She picked at her food as she listened to them regale what they did over their summer vacations.

Algebra II and Trigonometry, however, proved to be a completely different story.

Helga walked into her fifth period class, finding herself the youngest student and only sophomore among a group of juniors, desperate to take whatever advanced courses they could so it would look good on their college applications and alleviate the worry so they could enjoy their senior year.

To her horror, along with the rest of her classmates, their teacher for the year was Miss Brown-Lowell. This particular educator was notorious for her inability to explain _any_ form of mathematical reasoning. She was so incapable of helping her students understand the subject that it sent them filling up _all_ the school math tutor's slots in droves. Her exams were ridiculously hard, and students in her fourth period class often ended up missing lunch. In comparison, her sixth period pupils stayed after school to finish their tests.

When the time came for midterms and finals, those in her class were often seen congregating in the library before school, during passing periods, lunchtime, and after school. Their textbooks laid open, and their calculators lost battery as pencils were sharpened and broken in half, while their erasers were rubbed raw. No one was capable of understanding what it meant to have a nervous breakdown unless he or she took a math course until Miss Brown-Lowell's tutelage.

The young woman sighed tentatively as she sat down in a desk in the middle row and far away from Miss Brown-Lowell's desk. Trying not to draw attention to herself, she pulled out her planner, designated math notebook, calculator, two pencils, and an eraser all while keeping her focus away from the other people in her class.

"See Helga Pataki over there?" a voice whispered, "She was _pregnant_ last year…. doesn't look half bad, but she needs to take off the baby weight."

Helga averted her eyes just slightly to the left, where the hushed voices were. In the desks two rows over from her own, she spotted two boys in letterman jackets whispering to each other.

"I wonder what she ended up doing with the kid. I heard she placed it for adoption."

"Who'd you hear _that_ from?"

"Alright, class," Miss Brown-Lowell announced in her nasally voice, interrupting everyone's side conversations. Everyone turned around to face the front of the classroom as she continued speaking and began passing out the syllabuses. "I'm your teacher, Miss Brown-Lowell and I'm warning you _now_ that this is _not_ an easy class. If you can't handle hard things in life, I suggest you make your exit."

Helga looked over the detailed course outline and read about the obscene amounts of homework and tests that she would have over the course of the school year. It would be a walk in the park compared to what she'd just been through.

"Of course," the sniveler teacher added with a roll of the eyes, "Most of you are determined to push through this course in an attempt to get college credits. I wish you all the best of luck in _that_ endeavor." As her beady eyes scanned the sea of students in front of her, she announced, "Since this class isn't a walk in the park, I figured we would have a little bit of fun before getting down to business." Miss Brown-Lowell slid the whiteboards to reveal an entire row of geometric proofs written all across the two large panels. With a snide smile, she said, "I figured I would take attendance the _exciting_ way. I'll call two names and those students must do one of the mathematical problems I've assigned. We'll see who can do it the _fastest_ and the _most accurately."  
_  
She jammed her finger onto the attendance roster and announced, _"Pataki, Helga!"  
_  
The blonde teenager paled upon hearing her name called. She took a deep breath and walked to Miss Brown-Lowell's desk, where the teacher then proceeded to point to the first geometric proof for her to complete prior to calling _"Merrill, Natalie!"_ to join her and finish the problem to her right.

Helga picked up a red dry-erase marker and stared up at the math problem nervously. It involved a complex web of isosceles triangles and angles dissecting across the other. After taking a deep breath, the young woman got to work, remaining focused on the geometric proof in front of her, ignoring the stares of those behind her.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, she stopped working upon noticing how eerily _quiet_ the classroom now was. She turned around and saw that everyone in class was staring at her, their facial expressions clearly expressing some form of discomfort. Her teacher wore the same look and Natalie, being the total snob she was rumored to be, glared at Helga and proclaimed, _"That's_ _**disgusting!**__"  
_  
The adolescent didn't know what was going on until that familiar, unwelcome musk reached her nostrils. She looked down and saw that the upper half of her shirt was completely soaked through and that the overabundance of milk trilled down her shirt in rapid succession. Embarrassed, her face turned crimson and she covered her mouth in an attempt to hide a watery cry that threatened to escape. Helga ran out of Mrs. Lowell-Brown's classroom with tears in her eyes amidst the boys in her class shouting lewd phrases such as, _"I want some of that!"_ and _"I know what my favorite drink is now!"  
_  
Once the saddened teenager reached her locker, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and called her father.

"Helga, what is it?" Bob asked, his voice concerned. "Are you okay?"

"C-can you come get me p-please?" Helga sobbed, unable to contain herself.

"What happened? Did Sid… _that_ _**tool**_ come onto you? Did he hurt you?"

"N-no," Helga choked out. "Please, Dad… just c-come f-for… for me?"

"I'll be right there," her father responded, his voice terse. "Go to the attendance office and wait for me there. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks Dad," the young woman said, her voice uneven. When she hung up, she took a deep breath and opened her locker, reaching for the medicine that failed her despite the additional dosage. She sighed and began opening the lid to take more when someone shut her locker. The abrupt shutting of the door frightened Helga and caused her to drop the bottle containing her liquid remedy. Watching in horror as it spilled on the ground beneath her, she looked up hesitantly and found herself facing the person responsible for depriving her of the medication she needed make everything (seemingly) less painful.

"Hey _**MILF,**_" Wolfgang greeted as he sent her a suggestive wink. "How was your summer?"

"_Go_ _**away,**_ _Wolfgang,"_ Helga snapped, trying to keep her voice from wavering. _"I don't_ _**ever**_ _wish to speak with you again."  
_  
Wolfgang merely chortled and said, "My mom volunteers at the hospital and she told me about how you gave up your baby. She told me that you were just so _'noble'_ in giving him to some rich young couple out in California that you felt were better suited to raise him. Personally, I think it's laziness."

"You shut the fuck up, Wolfgang," Helga growled as she clenched her fists. "You have no idea what the Hell you're talking about."

"Oh really?" Wolfgang said, his voice filled with airiness. "I happened to look up on Google that most birth parents actually _regret_ giving their kids up." Looking at her soaked shirt, he said, "But I can see why you did it. You probably didn't want your nipples to get sucked dry." Licking his lips with seductiveness, he remarked dirtily, "Of course, I'd do just about _anything_ to get a little bit of that _something-something._"

At that moment, something inside of Helga _snapped_ and she proceeded to punch Wolfgang in the jaw, whereupon he stumbled backwards and onto the ground. Taken completely by surprise, the bully rubbed his bloodied jaw in pain and the angered young woman pounced on him. She wrestled him to the ground, hitting him all over the face and repeatedly on the nose and jaw.**  
**  
"_DON'T YOU_ _**DARE**_ _INSULT_ _**MY SON**_ _OR_ _**HIS PARENTS!**__"_ she shrieked. _"YOU HAVE_ _**NO IDEA**_ _WHAT IT'S LIKE_ _**TO**_ _**HAVE A PART OF YOU MISSING.**_ _YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF UNDERSTANDING THE KIND OF_ _**LOVE**_ _IT TAKES TO GO THROUGH WITH AN ADOPTION!"  
_  
She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders but shook them off as she proceeded to hit Wolfgang repeatedly and screamed, _"I GAVE UP MY SON SO HE COULD HAVE A GOOD LIFE. HE'LL BE RAISED BY_ _**AMAZING PARENTS**_ _WHO ARE_ _**EDUCATED**_ _AND WHO_ _**LOVE HIM!**__"_ The teenager panted and added icily, _"That's more than I can say for you, you fucking bastard."_ She punched him again and threw a backwards punch to the anonymous person behind her and spat, _"My son will grow up to accomplish great things in life while you'll be lucky if you end up working as the fry cook at some run-down Golden Arches out in the middle of nowhere."_ _**  
**_  
Helga hit her tormenter again and was about to throw down another punch when someone from behind grabbed her wrist. Turning around as she elbowed the unknown person in the chest, the young woman's blue eyes fell on Sid Gifaldi, who knelt behind her. He clutched his upper body in pain and used his other hand to cover his bloody nose.

"_Why are you here?"_ she demanded furiously before turning back to Wolfgang, who now lay unconscious on the floor.

"Helga, he's _not_ worth it," Sid pleaded with her. "Wolfgang doesn't even know what he's talking about most of the time."

The young woman contorted her face angrily and snapped, "How did you know I was out here in the hallway?"

"My English class is right by your locker," he admitted. "You… you were kind of loud."

"Oh," Helga said knowingly, not realizing that she spoke the same sentiment with someone else who _wasn't_ the father of her son.

The two perplexed teenagers looked up and saw Mr. Simmons standing over them, looking worried.

"Oh… my," the teacher said, scratching his head. "Helga, I'm sorry about this, but… I'm going to have to take you to Principal Armstrong's office."

"Fine," she said, her voice completely apathetic.

Turning to where Wolfgang lay sprawled on the ground, Mr. Simmons added,

"Sid, do you have a problem with getting Wolfgang to the nurse's office?" When he shook his head, the older man added, "When the two of you get cleaned up, you'll need to come see the principal as well."

"Okay," Sid sighed as he turned to rouse the upperclassman. Once he was up, Sid and Mr. Simmons lifted Wolfgang back onto his feet and then parted ways.

"I… I just don't know what to say, Helga," her former teacher said as they walked to the school administration building, where Principal Armstrong's office was located. "I know things must be really hard for you, but – "

"_Save it for later, Simmons,"_ Helga grumbled. _"My dad's coming to pick me up anyway… and you weren't there to hear all the crap Wolfgang was spouting."  
_  
The teacher only exhaled slowly as they made their way toward the office. Helga sat in a chair outside of it, waiting not just for the authority figure to return from a district meeting, but also for Sid and Wolfgang to show up. They soon returned with the school nurse and Principal Armstrong in tow, the latter's face stony and unreadable.

"_Inside,"_ he commanded, pointing to the door of his office. Helga got up and walked inside, followed by Mr. Simmons, Sid, a heavily bandaged Wolfgang, and the nameless school nurse. The three students sat down in the chairs across from the principal's desk and the two teachers stood behind them.

After Principal Armstrong took his seat, he said, _"In my thirty years as a school principal, I've_ _**never**_ _had_ _**three students**_ _in here for fighting on_ _**the first day of school.**_ _Would each of you care to tell me what happened? Who would like to go first?"  
_  
Helga and Sid only stared at each other, not knowing how to respond to the authority figure's request when her father rushed into the room with Helga's backpack and leftover school supplies in hand.

"Helga, are you okay?" he asked, their blue pools mirroring each other before he surveyed the room around him. When his eyes rested on Sid and Wolfgang, they turned into thin slits as he said, his voice filled with fury, "Did these two _monsters_ come onto you or hurt you in any way?" Looking at Sid, he screamed, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER?"

"Mr. Pataki," the principal told him, "Your daughter was brought in here on the grounds of starting a fight between herself and Mr. Ackerman."

"He has a broken nose, two black eyes, several missing teeth, and a terribly bruised face as proof!" the school nurse said, indicating to where the browbeater sat.

Bob sighed and said, "I'm sorry about this… Helga actually called earlier and asked that I come pick her up. She – she's been having a rough go of things lately. Considering all that she's been through, I'm sure you understand."

"Principal Armstrong," Sid said, holding a handkerchief up to his nose to stop the bleeding, "Wolfgang was antagonizing Helga. He was saying horrible things to her about the baby and the fact that she gave him to another couple to raise. He was wrong to do that, Sir."

"I understand that, Mr. Gifaldi," the authority figure stated, "But what Miss Pataki did was extremely serious. I'll have to suspend both she and Mr. Ackerman for three days; but because you tried to stop the fight, Mr. Gifaldi, you'll be let off."

However, Sid only shook his head and said, "Please don't do that to Helga. If anything, _I_ can take on her suspension."

The principal's office was stunned into silence as the man behind the desk pondered the young man's offer. Looking into his earnest brown eyes after a deep pause, he inquired, "You'd be willing to do that for Miss Pataki? Why?"

"Because," Sid said as his shoulders slumped, "She's the mother of my child."

"V- very well," Principal Armstrong sputtered, having never been under such circumstances before in his career. "This is not going to look promising on your record, Mr. Gifaldi. Do you understand that?" When the teenager merely nodded, the man warned, "If you don't keep up your grades and if this behavior continues, you'll have to rely solely on your photography talent to get yourself accepted into a university."

Taking a deep breath, the man turned to Helga and said, "Miss Pataki, just because Mr. Gifaldi plans to take on your suspension, it does _not_ mean that you are off the hook. For the next three days, you will have both lunchtime and after school detention. I will also have you attend _yet another_ workshop on bullying and its perils this weekend, though they don't seem to have any affect on you whatsoever. However, now that you have a son, perhaps you'll realize that this behavior _cannot_ and _should not_ continue. You and your father are free to go." Looking to Sid and Wolfgang, he concluded, "Mr. Ackerman and Mr. Gifaldi, I'll call your parents and have them pick you up."

When Bob eyed Helga, signifying that he was ready to leave, she motioned for him to wait for her, as she had certain business to take of before heading out.

Once her father left the principal's office, the adolescent turned to Sid, her face thunderous.

"_This changes_ _**nothing,**_" she spat. _"I_ _**don't**_ _need you to fight my battles for me. And you know what? This is part of the reason_ _**why**_ _I gave Matthew up. It's so that I don't have to deal with_ _**you.**__"_

**III**

"That – that's what she told me," Sid said quietly as he looked downward at the patterned carpet. "Helga wants nothing to do with me. I know what I did was wrong and that I shouldn't ever stop working toward that reconciliation, but do you think she _really_ meant that? If so, why should I try establishing that connection with her?"

"Sid," his psychologist told him knowingly, "You're _already_ linked to Helga and forever will be. The two of you had a child together. No matter what happens in your lives, Matthew will always keep you and Helga eternally attached."

"Well," the young man remarked, "We won't be together in the _traditional _way that other people are. That was never meant to happen."

"No," Doctor Bliss affirmed, "But the two of you are related to your son and will always share that bond. You and Helga made someone so much bigger than yourselves. Even though the circumstances in which you did so were far from ideal and though there is still animosity between you and her, your son will always keep the two of you together in your love for _him._"

The young man sighed, giving Doctor Bliss a nod as he leaned back onto the purple couch, his hands tucked behind his head. When he took on Helga's suspension two months ago, not only did he feel his mother and father's wrath, but also received the revelation that he would be seeing a psychologist and already had a primary appointment scheduled for that Friday. Sid was nervous about the initial visit, having never called on a psychiatrist before. He was further alarmed to learn that his Aunt Rebecca scheduled the first session and offered to pay for any future consultations because his parents were not able to do so.

However, Irene Bliss surprised Sid with her empathy, friendliness, and willingness to fully understand Sid's side of the story. His parents liked her as well, and it was soon decided that he would visit her three days a week after school. Lately, Sid had been working with Doctor Bliss on overcoming his insecurities, obsessive tendencies, paranoia, and trust issues. Though he made progress in these fields, Helga and Matthew never ceased being his main topics of conversation with his understanding psychologist. There was no doubt in the remorseful teenager's mind that he would always wonder whether or not his son would want him. Sid would understand if Matthew refused to meet him even though the action would destroy his already broken heart. Helga however, would always remain an enigma when it came to their son. It seemed as though she wanted to deny that they were connected because of their little boy. When Helga told Sid that she chose to give Matthew up partly because of him, it seemed like such a selfish motive and it left the teenager confused.

"It just makes Helga seem so… self-centered, you know?" Sid commented as he resumed his earlier upright position. "It's like she's saying she gave our son to another set of parents so it could excuse her from ever being with me again."

"I can't say I blame her, Sid," Doctor Bliss said bluntly. "Your statement proves that you continue to lack a real understanding of what Helga sacrificed for your son and how much you hurt her. Sid, she gave up her body, control of her emotions, physical wellness, and mental health for Matthew. Not only was the pregnancy very difficult for her, but the actual labor and delivery themselves were as well. Helga has _permanent_ emotional scars from what you put her through and some of the bodily ones will take her to the grave as well. I spoke with her obstetrician and he informed me of how _tough_ and _long_ her recovery is and will still be. Helga is still going through _a lot_ right now, Sid; and there's a lot of it that you can't even _begin_ to fathom." Taking a deep breath, she continued, "I know Helga is not blameless and that it was wrong for her to lead you on in the manner that she did, but there is _no_ excuse for abandoning someone you impregnated. Quite frankly, Helga is too hurt, unimpressed, and _broken_ to associate herself with you."

"But… but what did she _mean_ by that earlier statement?"

"Sid, the main reason why Helga placed your baby with Kevin and Christine was because of her desire to give him a better life. She wanted him raised in an environment filled with stability and love, which was something she could not provide, but that Kevin and Christine could. However, it's also safe to say that the adoption gave her relief because she no longer has to worry about Matthew being raised in a surrounding where his parents don't love each other and lack a civil relationship with the other person. It also provides her with the opportunity to move on with her life and to start anew."

The once perplexed teenager nodded as he took in his psychologist's words. In a way, the adoption provided a new beginning for Sid as well. It gave him the chance to first and foremost, redeem himself to Matthew, and he could do that by improving himself. Sid could continue his tri-weekly sessions with Doctor Bliss and even continue to see an adult psychologist if he needed to once he turned eighteen. In addition, Sid could work hard to obtain better grades throughout the rest of his high school career and improve on the poor grades he received the second semester of his freshman year by attending summer school. The young man could expand on his photography skills and better his work ethic through improved studying skills and landing a part-time job.

He finally understood.

He could begin again. _That_ was how he would apologize to both Helga _and _Matthew for the time being.

Sid realized that his sorrows would continue to be ignored by Helga. He truly was sorry, but she didn't have time for his contrition. At least not yet. She needed her space more than anything, and if the young man was sincere in his determination to do what little he could in making things right, then he would back off for the time being.

Taking a deep breath, he admitted, "It… it makes sense. A reconciliation between Helga and I… isn't possible right now. She needs time… and I need to work on compensating for everything I've done by making myself better. I can get a job, work harder in school, work on everything you've taught me…" His voice trailed off as he looked downward as the one question that always stayed in the back of the young man's mind came to the forefront at long last. Keeping his brown eyes averted, he wondered, "Will there ever be hope for understanding?"

"That's a heavy question, Sid," Doctor Bliss told him seriously. "While there will always be hope, you have to understand the full gravity of this situation and how it'll be _years_ before you'll obtain that, _if_ you ever do. Until then, all you can do are the things you've just mentioned to me. Sid, you can always do better than what you're doing now. There is always room for improvement. Even though you've made mistakes and have hurt a lot of people, you have what it takes to rise above. There will _always_ be hope. You just can't give up whenever feelings of discouragement and inadequacy come in… it's all about moving forward and keeping your head held high."

Sid looked up and nodded, grateful for words of wisdom from his psychologist. It was all starting to make sense, how he could move forward and work for his redemption by becoming better. Chances were that it would take a lifetime, but at that moment, the teenager couldn't think of a greater way to spend it. The teenager's chocolate orbs moved toward the clock that hung above the door, which revealed that it had been an hour since his appointment started and that it was now time for him to leave. After standing up from his place on the couch, he held out a hand to Doctor Bliss.

"Thank you…for doing this," Sid told her. "I know I'm probably your _least favorite_ patient, but I still… appreciate everything you do. It means a lot."

"You've grown a lot, Sid," Doctor Bliss told him as she shook his hand, "And I know that you'll continue to do so. Just always remember that there _is_ hope."

"Bye," Sid said, giving her a small smile and wave as he headed out of her office and soon exited the Hillwood Medical Center. He descended the steps of the building and not wanting to return home quite yet, opted to take a quick walk throughout the city before catching the next bus out. The November air was cold and windy as Sid buttoned his jacket, tightened the greens scarf around his neck, and pulled out his iPod. Instead of snow, dead leaves lined the sidewalk and crunched loudly as Sid went on his promenade. The melodies of Relient K's Christmas album _Let It Snow, Baby… Let It Reindeer_ made their way throughout Sid's mind as he pondered the holiday season. Stores already began holding their annual Christmas sales. The numerous shops, restaurants, and the numerous lampposts that adorned Hillwood's walkways were already decorated with sparkling lights, wreaths, and tinsel. The teenager knew that the holidays were going to be difficult this year; in fact, the first of _everything,_ from Thanksgiving to Easter would be hard to live through without his son.

Admittedly, the day of thanks spent with his parents, Aunt Rebecca, Uncles Mark and Henry, and their two children hadn't been that bad. The eight of them went to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and then enjoyed a scrumptious dinner with all the fixings at Mark and Henry's studio apartment. To his relief, no one asked questions about Matthew or brought him up. If anything, Sid was grateful that his child had been adopted into a good family and that all his holidays would be good ones filled with happiness and love as opposed to bitter resentments.

However, his Christmas wasn't shaping to be a good one. The day before, his parents announced that they would be spending the Yuletide in Fabius.

Sid was horrified, knowing how much his parents _despised_ the small cow town. The teenager's father didn't like the idea at first, but along with his mother, felt that facing his family was all apart of accepting the consequences of his actions; apparently, endless phone calls were not enough. However, his Aunt Rebecca would be there and Sid knew that she wouldn't tolerate her family's bullshit and constant ridicule. The high point of the season though, would be receiving his first update from Kevin and Christine. The young man looked forward to getting it and to seeing how Matthew was doing with his new parents and extended family. Upon looking upward, Sid realized that he was right in front of Slausen's. It'd been a long time since he'd last been inside the restaurant and spoken with the peculiar owner. Knowing that he hadn't eaten since lunch, the young man stepped inside, once again surprised that the ice-cream parlor _always _seemed to be empty whenever he was there.

After sliding into a booth, he took off his scarf, jacket, and put his iPod in his jeans pocket. Frank Sinatra's "Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas" played from the vintage jukebox as the teenager took note of all the holiday trappings set up inside the restaurant. Garland lined the upper half of the walls, decorated with multi-colored lights, miniature red glitter ornaments, and small candy canes. At the far corner of the eatery, Whitney stood decorating an evergreen tree. A small smile played on her lips as she placed various ornaments onto he tree, not noticing that the dark-haired adolescent was watching her, let alone inside of the restaurant.

Another one of the waitresses stopped by to take Sid's order. He asked for a turkey melt with a side of onion rings and a chocolate milkshake, and then returned to looking at the Christmas decorations that surrounded him.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

The teenager turned around, finding himself sitting across from Mr. Slausen once again. This time around, the owner of the historic ice-cream parlor was dressed in a much more conservative black suit and red tie, though his trademark knickerbonker hat still remained.

"Yes it has," Sid admitted. "How are you, Mr. Slausen?"

"I'm doing fine," the man said casually while looking at his suit sleeves. "I felt like changing things up a bit." When Sid gave a small chuckle, the older man stared at him and asked, "How have _you_ been doing?"

Subsequent to taking a deep breath, the young man replied, "Honestly? I have _no_ idea." Pulling out his wallet, he took out a colored photograph of him holding Matthew and slid it across the table for Mr. Slausen to look at. "He looks like me."

The restaurant owner picked up the photograph and looked over it before nodding in agreement.

"Are you holding up okay?" he inquired, giving the photograph back to Sid.

"From what Whitney has told me, things have been really hard for Helga."

"I can't even imagine," Sid confessed as he placed the picture back into his wallet. "It hasn't been easy, Mr. Slausen. I mean, I – I'm happy for my son… for Matthew. Amazing people who love him are raising him. Matthew will grow up in a good environment where he'll want for nothing… but I'll always wonder if he'll want me or not… and that's hard."

Mr. Slausen looked at him with intent and recited, "You invite things to happen. You open the door. You inhale. And if you inhale the chaos, you give the chaos, the chaos gives back."

Baffled, Sid asked, "Where'd you get _that_ from?"

"It's a quote from a book Helga lent out to me a while back," the older man answered, retrieving it from the inside of his coat and giving it to Sid.

The teenager groaned upon seeing the front cover.

It was _You Shall Know Our Velocity!_ by Dave Eggers.

"_Oh God,"_ he grumbled, recalling how Helga tried to convert him to reading the author's works, _"Not you too."_ Putting the novel off to the side just as his food arrived, the teenager queried, _"What's the point you're trying to make?"  
_  
"You let this happen, Sid," Mr. Slausen informed him. "You got yourself into a mess that you allowed to escalate. As a result, you're facing the repercussions full force. You'll have to live with what you've done for the rest of your life, knowing fully well that you've hurt your son, his mother, your own parents, and so many other people. When you allow things in your life to become disorderly, it comes back to haunt you."

"_I get it,"_ Sid snapped, his voice stubborn. He picked at his meal for a while before adding, _"I'll be trying my hardest to make things right again for the rest of my life, but I_ _do_ _have a plan… contrary to what you may think."  
_  
Mr. Slausen opened his mouth to answer when Whitney walked over to him, grinning from ear to ear.

"The three's done!" she exclaimed happily, clasping her hands together.

Sid stared at the two of them, watching as they conversed over the decorations inside the parlor. He kept his gaze away from Whitney's, hoping she wouldn't notice him, but her dark eyes fell on him as her smile turned into a frown.

"_What are you doing here?"_ she demanded coldly, folding her arms. _"Haven't you already done enough damage to last you a lifetime?"  
_  
"Please don't do this," Sid begged. "I'm going to spend the rest of my life feeling like crap as it is."

"_Good,"_ she snapped. _"I can't think of anyone else more deserving."  
_  
Mr. Slausen however, stared at her pointedly and said, "Mr. Gifaldi was just about to tell me what his plans were in terms of his redemption. He knows fully well that this will take a lifetime to accomplish, but he seems determined to see it through. Why don't you take a seat?"

Whitney eyed her manager suspiciously and slid into the seat next to him, eyeing Sid with doubt.

Sid exhaled and said, "I… I need to give Helga her space right now. She – she doesn't want anything to do with me right now, and I can't say that I blame her. However, I want her to know that I'm sorry… and I _do_ want to make things right for both her _and_ our son. I really hope that one day, the two of us will be able to talk about everything that has transpired, but I know that may never happen… however, there will _always_ be that hope." He paused and added, "For the time being, I've found my redemption in bettering myself. I can strive to earn better grades throughout the rest of my time at Hillwood High School and improve my older grades. I'll improve my study skills and develop my photography talent… also, I'll continue seeing Doctor Bliss, because she's really helped me a lot." Taking a deep breath, he said, "Once I'm eighteen, I'll keep seeing a psychologist if I need to. I can even develop my work ethic by getting a part time job. I _do_ want to be better not just for myself, but for Helga and Matthew… at this point, this is the only way I can do it."

When he finished speaking, Mr. Slausen leaned back and nodded.

"You know," he said, staring at both the young man and the waitress next to him, "Whitney will be graduating from university in April." He looked at her and prompted, "Right?"

She gave a nod and responded, "I talked with my academic advisor back in August. He told me that next semester will be my last. It's really just my internship where I'll actually be apprenticing full-time for Milk Studios in the Big Apple."

"Someone will need to take your place," the older man remarked, drumming his fingers on the table casually.

Her eyes moving between her boss and the teenager across from her, Whitney turned to him and asked, "When can you start training? January would probably be better, since the holidays are a lot better for the more experienced employees."

"T-that works," the young man answered. "Thank you."

"Do you want me to get you a box?" Whitney responded, noticing that he hadn't touched his food in a while.

"Sure," Sid said, watching as the waitress grabbed the food container and handed it to him before asking the patrons at another table for their order.

As he put his leftovers into the box, Mr. Slausen told him, "You should take that book home and look at it. I think there's a lot you could learn."

Rolling his eyes, Sid said, "Look, I've already _tried_ reading Dave Eggers. He's Helga's favorite author and she tried to get me into him back when we were still friends and before I got her pregnant. It didn't work then and you trying to persuade me otherwise isn't going to work."

"Just hold onto it for a while," the older man encouraged him. "There's _always_ something to be learned or a realization made that helps you realize what you have." Beckoning to the novel Sid had picked up, Mr. Slausen beckoned to it and said, "_You Shall Know Our Velocity!_ is about two friends named Will and Hand who are trying hard to restore their faith in humanity but don't know how to do it. But _you_ have a _plan,_ Sid. Keep that in mind, okay?"

The young man nodded as he stood up from his seat inside the booth, buttoning up his jacket and putting on his scarf. Taking the boxed food and novel in hand, he said, "Thanks for everything, Mr. Slausen."

"Anytime, Mr. Gifaldi," the kind owner said, giving him a wave. "I hope to see you soon."

"You as well," Sid said before stepping outside the restaurant. He found the skies darkened and the city lit up with all the festive lights, making Hillwood City look _somewhat_ like a Christmas card. All that was needed was some thick, fluffy white snow and a few snowmen to complete the overall look. Peeking at his watch, the young man saw that it was just five minutes past seven. He really needed to get home and start his homework because finals were coming up. The teenager was true to his word, had been getting straight A's in all his classes thus far, and didn't want to screw it up.

Yet when his eyes rested on the vibrantly decorated toy store just a few buildings down, Sid knew he had to go inside. Even more perfect was that there were only a few other people inside.

It was his favorite toy store from childhood. The walls were painted a bright blue color with Technicolor trims. Numerous cream-colored shelves reaching towards the Jackson Pollack inspired ceiling surrounded the perimeter of the store and were stocked with various toys. Board games, bouncing balls, robots, trucks, miniature Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars, train sets, action figures ranging from the likes of Star Wars to Transformers, dolls, Lincoln Logs, minute army men, Legos, miniature airplanes, puzzles, noisemakers, yo-yos, and many other toys filled the shelves. In addition, there were also hula-hoops, science kits, Nerf guns, remote control cars, endless collections of comic books and video games, costumes, and pogo sticks. A rocking horse just like the one Sid bought in the fourth grade that was eventually destroyed _Godfather_ style sat in the far left corner. It was painted a vibrant blue just like the walls with some beige accents, had a blackened mane, small greenish eyes, and bright red rocker bottoms.

Even now, the store was every child's dream come true.

In the center of it all was a vast array of stuffed animals. Sid walked toward it, finding a soft, green toy frog and a tan-colored plush horse with a deep brown mane. The young man picked them both up, deciding to buy Matthew's Christmas presents at that moment. If the teenager knew anything, it was that time was precious. Shopping for his little boy wouldn't be considered an easy task for very long.

Sid didn't even _want_ to think about the teenage years, where chances were likely that Matthew would toss the Christmas and birthday presents he got for him out the window. Hopefully, Kevin and Christine would let him know through their biannual updates what their sons likes and dislikes were, but how much could those change in six months time?

He concluded that such things probably changed a lot.

"Sir, I can ring you up," the cashier said from behind the checkout counter. She was a grandmotherly type with curly white hair, wearing lipstick that was too red and a knitted green sweater with the likenesses of Rudolph, Frosty, and Santa Clause on it. The clothing article was something one would wear to an ugly sweater Christmas party or to simply be ironic, obnoxious, or both. Helga would think it was funny. For a moment, Sid wondered if Matthew would think so too when he was older. He wondered whose sense of humor his son inherited, but knew it was a trait that wouldn't become apparent for several years.

"Getting your Christmas shopping done early?" the teller inquired in a syrupy voice.

"Yes," the young man answered. "I figure it's better to do so now than when everything gets crazy again."

She smiled at him and said, "Are these gifts for your little brother or sister?"

"No," Sid answered, "They're actually for my son."

The cashier's too-large smile turned into a frown as she told him coolly, "That will be ten dollars and fifty cents, please." As Sid paid for the two items with exact change, her glare seemed to read, _"So_ _**you're**_ _the one who knocked up Helga Pataki."_

"Merry Christmas," the teenager said quickly, rushing out of the store with his purchases and leftover from Slausen's, not wanting the angry, elderly woman staring at him any longer. He made it a point to walk home as quickly as possible after that encounter, picking his legs up into a mid-run at some point during his saunter home.

Sid was completely out of breath when he finally returned. The house was dark and the lights were low, indicating that his parents were either still at work or on their way home. This had been the case for so long that it no longer deterred the young man or seemed out of the ordinary. After having Matthew though, he soon found that the tranquility that came with being solitaire came with a price.

Upon putting his food into the refrigerator, he went to his room, the gifts for Matthew and the book Mr. Slausen lent out to him in his arms. The young man then returned his iPod to his dock, continuing the syndication of Christmas songs as he placed the two stuffed animals into his top drawer for safe keeping until he could wrap and package them off. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, Sid picked up the book with reluctance. It was well worn and had been read several times over. As he opened the book, he found Helga's name written on the inside cover in her tidy penmanship. Flipping the pages unceremoniously, he found that one was earmarked.

His curiosity peaked, Sid turned to that particular page and unfolded it, surprised to find that Helga had a phrase circled numerous times in purple pen, with the date _June 15th_ (prior to when Helga chose to place their son for adoption) written next to it:

"_All I ever wanted was to know what to do!"_

**IV**

Helga Pataki felt absolutely _miserable_ as she stepped off the bus at its designated stop and began her small walk home after school let out. She still felt fat, ugly, and slothful. The young woman wanted so badly to be wrong when she predicted that the baby weight would take _forever_ to come off, but to her horror, she couldn't be more correct. Helga cut all processed and junk foods from her diet, ate fruits, vegetables, whole grains, and only consumed lean meats and the occasional dessert once a month. She did what little physical activity she could, but despite her efforts, the weight _still_ stayed on. The young woman hoped that the diet would _at least_ help her complexion, but it didn't; rather, her acne inflamed and was worse than ever.

As much as Helga hated it, the breast milk still came, never ceasing to surprise her at the most inopportune moments. After the first day of school fiasco, Bob took her straight to see Doctor Warner, who revealed that Helga's body suffered an adverse reaction to the medication. It resulted in her body overcompensating its milk production and turning out an excess of the substance. The obstetrician took Helga off the prescribed medicine and counseled her to let the milk cycle through naturally, stating that with time, it would come to dry out on its own. Since the teenager's milk production had yet to cease, she began bringing extra shirts and bras to school to change into whenever the pungent liquid arrived and soaked through her clothing.

In addition, the young woman's most recent appointment with Doctor Warner revealed that her physical recovery from the labor and delivery was going much slower than anticipated. Though it would be yet another twelve weeks after what was originally set before she could return to full physical activity, the practitioner allowed the adolescent to increase her walking distance. He admonished her to go about doing so slowly, advising the stubborn teenager not to strain herself. Helga was grateful to have _some_ semblance of her independence back, no longer needing to rely on her mother and father to drive her everywhere. However, it was still hard not being able to do a whole lot. The young woman soon realized what a _blessing_ it was to possess full running and walking capabilities. She couldn't wait for the ability to walk to and from places without her family and doctor worrying about her. Luckily, Helga's Physical Education teacher was very understanding about her strict doctor's orders. He allowed the adolescent to act as a teacher's assistant for the class and had her obtain class credit through researching and writing weekly essays about various subjects pertaining to the benefits of physical activity.

Ironically, Helga possessed one of the highest grades in that class despite not doing any physical activity. She maintained A's in all of her school subjects and was the top student in Miss Brown-Lowell's class. The young woman's homework load kept her busy, but so did Rhonda and their female classmates, who often invited her out for dinner, movies, and sleepovers at the Lloyd estate. Though Helga accepted some of these invitations, she declined most of them. Despite being grateful for their efforts, they only left her feeling suffocated.

Arnold still continued sending letters and cards, but Helga couldn't bring herself to respond to them. it wasn't because she lacked the courage to write back, but it was more her feeling as though she didn't have anything noteworthy to say. Nevertheless, his words of love and encouragement gratified her and the adolescent often found herself bringing the various notes he wrote to school with her.

The teenager's appointments with Doctor Bliss continued and she also went to a support group for birthmothers once a week. While Helga had always been grateful for her psychologist's support, she felt out of place at the group meetings due to being the youngest one there. Most of the birthmothers in Helga's support group were university students or graduates who had just started their careers. They'd gotten pregnant while at frat parties or drinking bong at company functions that had gotten way out of hand. In contrast to Helga, these women didn't face the stigma of an out of wedlock pregnancy that _she_ did. New York was a very liberal state and expectant university students and white-collar workers rarely batted an eye. After all, most students made their tuition money in the reproductive markets; college males donated their sperm for fat checks while the females put their wombs up for rent, acting as surrogates for gay and infertile couples. Those who fell pregnant unintentionally _always_ opted for adoption if not abortion because they didn't want to live the student family life. The women in the workforce were given full benefits for the pregnancy and the adoption that followed. Helga knew that it was likely hard for those women to relinquish their children, but still couldn't help feeling ostracized by them. From the stories she heard, their pregnancies, along with the labor and deliveries weren't _nearly_ as excruciating as _hers_ was. Many of them had the support of the father. Most of them were beautiful, already had their figures back, and didn't have to deal with the after effects and unwanted stigma that _she_ did.

Simply put, it wasn't fair.

The young woman was scheduled to attend a meeting with her support group tonight over at the hospital, but had second thoughts about going. Not only did the teenager hate the idea of being shunned by most of the birthmothers there due to her young age and vastly different experience, but she also had a math exam to study for, a history paper to write, and wanted to get a head start on preparing for her final exams. Not wanting to think about much else, Helga continued walking home because she just wanted to be by herself. At that point, the teenager was so focused on getting home that she neglected to notice she was being followed.

Helga stopped, cocking her single eyebrow as her suspicion was made sure. Her old habit dying hard, she threw her fist backward to punch Brainy, only for him to grab her wrist and turn the indignant young woman around so they were facing each other. The young woman looked up at him in shock, surprised to see that he'd grown several inches that made him taller than her. His hair was still a fair pale blonde that was spiked upward, and he wore a long, black winter pea coat and dark washed jeans as opposed to his trademark brown pants and orange shirt.

"_Brainy, what are you doing following me?"_ Helga spat, _"I just want to be left alone right now!"  
_  
"It's _Brian,_" he told her darkly as his light, ethereal eyes hidden behind rimless glasses eyed her critically. "You need to snap out of it, Helga."

"_HOW DARE YOU!"_ she cried out, glaring at him while she brought her fists forward to punch him. _"YOU HAVE_ _**NO**_ _**IDEA**_ _PERTAINING TO THE HELL I'VE BEEN THROUGH!"  
_  
Brian countered her fists and said coolly when he saw how shocked she was at his acquisition of his new skills, "I've been taking self defense classes." Taking a deep breath, he remarked, "Look, Helga. You're right. I don't know what it's like to be a pregnant fifteen-year-old or to put my child up for adoption. You're in a living Hell right now and I sympathize with you on that level. It must be hard… and I know I can't even _begin_ to comprehend what you're going through right now. However, moping about it isn't getting you anywhere. Acting like you're the only person whose gone through this won't make things any better for you either."

"Have you _been_ to my support group?" she queried. "I'm the youngest one there and those other women had pregnancies that were equivalent to a _damn stroll in the park_ compared to _me._"

"You don't know that," Brainy reasoned, "Some of them might be hiding how they really feel. While that's counter-productive in that type of environment, it happens a lot more than you would think it does. You need to speak with someone you know on a personal level who has experienced what you're going through right now."

"_Like I'm going to find_ _**that**_ _**person**_ _in Hillwood,"_ the stubborn adolescent snapped.

"Maybe not," Brian said, "But you _will_ find that person if you're determined enough… if you _really_ want help, you'll find it."

"I… I just really miss my son," Helga said, her voice small. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she admitted, "I… I don't un-understand _why_ the doubts keep eating me alive and… and _why_ I feel so an-angry and bitter when I did the right thing. I've been through physical and emotional torture… but there's nothing to show for it except for all these _scars._"

_"You_ _**chose**_ _the better life for him,"_ Brian told her, his voice firm. "You have to remember that even when the world and all the cruel reminders are telling you otherwise. Because you put your son up for adoption, you've made another couple happy and have helped them fulfill a dream they never thought could be achieved. Your son will lead a life filled with love, happiness, and stability. _His_ joy will be proof of all that you've gone through and sacrificed… and your son _will_ have an appreciation for all that you've done for him."

Wiping her azure eyes, the teenager asked, "Do you… do you think he'll want to meet me someday?"

"No," Brian told her, causing Helga to glare at him, completely affronted before he added, "I _know_ he'll want to."

Taking a deep breath, Helga smiled shyly at Brian and said, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," Brian replied, returning the smile and holding out a small piece of paper to her. "I know you like the brownie sundaes at Slausen's, and I found a coupon for it in the newspaper. I figured you would want it."

The young woman took the voucher with gloved fingers, watching as Brian waved goodbye to her before walking off. Looking at the coupon in greater detail, she grinned widely and hopped onto the bus when it stopped by again, intent on going to Slausen's.

Brownie sundaes _always_ sounded better than studying.

When the teenager got off the bus and entered the historic ice-cream parlor, she was greeted by Whitney, who ran full-force and wrapped her in a giant hug.

"Get to work," she joked, handing the voucher to her friend.

"Take a seat and I'll get it made for you."

Helga nodded and took a seat, her sapphire orbs resting on the Christmas decorations inside the restaurant. She had a lot of homework and studying to do, but it was fine. For the first time in a while, the young woman was overcome with the assurance that everything was going to be okay and work out in the manner that it was supposed to do so. She just never thought that _Brainy,_ or Brian, as he now preferred to be called, would bring her to that realization. However, he had been right; there were other people in the world who struggled with the exact same thing she was right now. Chances were that they probably hid it a lot better than she did, but the pain was still there. Helga didn't want to admit it at first, but the other birthmothers in her support group probably went through the same heartache she was living through.

As she pondered this, Whitney came back with her brownie sundae, sat across from the adolescent, and queried, "So how are you holding up?"

The teenager sighed and said, "It's easier to take things one at a time… but things are still really hard, you know?" Taking a bite of her dessert, she remarked, "I need someone who I can connect with better concerning all of this… someone who's _actually gone through it_ who can tell me that things will look up and that I can be happy again. I've heard it from other people and while their words of encouragement are comforting and _have_ really helped me out a lot – "

"It needs to come from someone whose _'been there, done that,'_" Whitney finished for her.

"Exactly."

The waitress paused, remaining deep in thought as Helga continued eating her brownie sundae. Her gaze resting on Helga, she said, "What would you say to me if I told you that I personally know someone… aside from you, whose put a

child up for adoption?"

"Don't you dare be joshing me on this Whitney," Helga warned as she put her spoon down.

"I'm not," Whitney reassured her. "When I was five, my cousin Leilani became pregnant when she was nineteen and didn't have the support of the father. She had a son and placed him for adoption with a couple she chose herself."

"_Really."  
_  
The waitress nodded and said, "I don't remember too much about what happened since I was little, but Leilani got pregnant when she was eighteen and had her baby shortly after turning nineteen. My cousin knew that she couldn't raise him right, so she chose a couple from Florida to adopt him. Their names are David and Susan, and from what I remember, they're both financial planners. The adoption agreement Leilani has with them is actually similar to the one you have with Kevin and Christine. She gets notes and photographs from the two of them about Ryan, but the only difference is that she'll get to meet him in three years after he turns sixteen."

"H-how is he?"

"Ryan is a happy, healthy, well-adjusted kid who knows he's adopted," Whitney responded. "He appreciates Leilani's sacrifice like I know Matthew will be of yours." Exhaling slowly, she said, "I know this will probably be a stretch, but I already talked things over with my parents and with yours… and if you wanted to… you could spend Christmas in Hawaii with my family and I. They would _love_ to have you and honestly? I feel like you need to get away from Hillwood for a while. Spending two weeks on a sunny beach instead of being surrounded by snow and clouds would really help you out… Leilani is willing to talk to you as well. I – I think she could really help you, especially because she rose above her circumstances and turned her life around after the adoption."

"Were my mother and father going to tell me this anytime soon?" Helga asked, already liking the idea of getting away, even if it was only for a little while.

"They planned on telling you tonight, but it looks like I beat them to it!"

A grin came to the adolescent's lips as she thought about spending the holidays on an island with the rolling of ocean waves, all the fresh fruit and coffee cake she wanted, a warm bed of sand, the mellowed music of the ukulele, gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, upbeat Reggae tunes, the hospitality of Whitney's family, and the Spirit of Aloha.

It sounded ten times better than having Christmas be a repeat of what she did for Thanksgiving, which consisted of sitting through one of Olga's showings of _Rats_ and getting Chinese take-out afterward. In addition to spending Christmas in Hawaii, Helga looked forward to getting her first update on Matthew from Kevin and Christine. She was also eager to speak with Leilani and form a connection with someone who'd been through what she had and rose above it, reemerging triumphant and stronger than ever.

Turning to face Whitney again, Helga said, "I'm glad you asked. I'm _long _overdue for a vacation."

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the song "The Harder They Come" which was written and performed by Jimmy Cliff. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	17. A Little Help

**Chapter XVII: A Little Help**

_What do I do when my love is away?  
Does it worry you to be alone?  
How do I feel by the end of the day  
Are sad because you're on your own?_

_No, I get by with a little help from my friends  
I'm going to try with a little help from my friends_

_Do you need anybody?  
I need somebody to love  
Could it be anybody?  
I want somebody to love_

_Would you believe in a love at first sight?  
Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time  
What do you see when you turn out the light?  
I can't tell you, but I know it's mine_

_I get by with a little help from my friends_

~The Beatles, "With A Little Help From My Friends"~

* * *

**I**

"Hold still for just a _little_ longer," Whitney told Helga as she continued plaiting the young woman's long caramel locks of hair that trailed down her back. "I'm _almost _done," she added whilst weaving yet _another_strong smelling, but nonetheless refreshing tropical flower into Helga's now braided tresses.

The blonde teenager merely nodded as she, Whitney, and the latter's cousin Leilani sat on the white, featherweight, powdery sands of Makalawena Beach. Located on the Big Island of Hawaii and far from the majority of tourists, Helga found instant solace in the seashore the moment her feet landed upon the coast. The breaking and crashing of ocean waves, wild cries of the seagulls that flew in the blue cloudless sky above her, salty wind, laid back atmosphere, and Leilani's light, bouncy strumming of the ukulele brought her some much-needed peace at long last. It was comforting, being away from the _real world _and the constant hustle and bustle of Hillwood, along with its neighboring city Brooklyn.

Being in Hawaii offered so much to the young woman. It gave Helga the peace of mind she longed for and a temporary escape from all the complications that plagued her life on a daily basis. The teenager not only yearned for some solitude away from the big city during this time, but also needed the help of someone who could _fully _sympathize with her and the plight she currently faced.

Helga needed this.

She really did.

Despite Brian's prior words of wisdom and possessing the full knowledge of allowing her son the chance of a better life, there were times when it still hurt.

_A lot._

Helga _knew _that this first Christmas without her son would be _especially _painful. The teenager also realized that the sorrow wouldn't stop there, as she would have to live through the first of every significant holiday, the premiere anniversaries of his birth and adoption, the uncertainty that would undoubtedly haunt her for the next eighteen years, and the realization of how _final _things would be if Matthew chose not to meet her.

As embarrassing as it was, there were times when Helga still broke down and cried for the child she relinquished. Despite wanting to keep her emotions in check during her visit, the Christmas season _alone_ already brought so many feelings and pent-up passions out of the teenager. Culminated with the heartache that came with giving up her son and the feelings of inadequacy that followed, the young woman couldn't help _but_cry.

Regardless of feeling rather humiliated when these episodes occurred, the young woman knew she was surrounded by friends. Whitney, Leilani, and their families didn't pass any form of judgment upon the teenager. Instead, they lent their listening ears and shoulders for Helga to cry on, proving that their compassion showed no boundaries.

While Whitney finished styling her hair, Helga exhaled with deliberate slowness as a means of staying in command and watched as Leilani stopped playing her ukulele and placed it beside her and on the towel she sat upon. Tilting her bright, multi-colored Ray Bans on the bridge of her nose, the beautiful Hawaiian woman squinted her dark eyes outward, focusing her attention on the ocean and the horizon in front of her.

Letting a smallish laugh escape from her burgundy lips, Leilani turned toward Helga and Whitney, pointing her finger out toward sea. "They're here," she said. "Right now is the prime season for it."

The blonde positioned her azure gaze in the direction of the ocean, only to turn away and scowl moments afterward. The curved tails, arched backs, and water shooting upward from random places in the deep blue sea forced upon the young woman the stinging, still severe feelings of failure and hopelessness regarding her physique.

Helga felt like a beached humpback whale. Even after all this time, she still perceived herself as being grossly fat and not _trying hard enough _in losing the pregnancy weight despite following the strict diet the teenager set for herself with abject obedience.

Before heading on vacation, the blonde paid Doctor Warner a visit regarding her stagnant weight loss and ongoing recovery from her difficult labor and delivery. The practitioner attributed her dormant baby weight to a hormonal imbalance. While he informed Helga that such an incident was not uncommon among women who'd given birth, he hesitated in prescribing the teenager medication that would remedy the problem out of the fear that her body would suffer an adverse reaction to it like in times past. Similarly, he also assured the blonde that oftentimes, those who went through labor and deliveries similar to hers typically took up to a year in recovering from the arduous ordeal and reminded the stubborn young woman not to overexert herself. At the conclusion of the appointment, Doctor Warner wished Helga well and told her to enjoy her time in the sun.

The teenager left the appointment feeling somewhat better about the state of her body, but still felt as though it betrayed her.

The blonde sighed with loudness, her exhale languid and tired as she kept her steely blue-eyed gaze upon the sands beneath her and away from the oceans. Whilst the whales swam in the distance and made their presence known to those who viewed them, Whitney put the finishing touches on Helga's hair and tied the bottom of her plaited braid with a clear elastic band before weaving the smallest, subtlest white hibiscus blossoms into the flexible strip.

Handing the young woman a small, compact mirror as she flipped her new hairstyle over the shoulder, Whitney said as she grinned widely, "I think you'll really like it, Helga."

Taking the miniature, circular looking glass from Whitney's hand, Helga surveyed her appearance in the mirror, completely taken aback at what she saw.

Her complexion no longer looked pallid and sickly, but now sported a subtle, tan glow and healthy rubicund cheeks from what few days she spent in the Hawaiian sun thus far. The acne that once dominated Helga's face was finally leaving, even as the slight indicators of the raised, red bumps peeling away and drying off her visage still remained. Nevertheless, the young woman's skin was the healthiest it'd been in months. It not only looked better, but felt that way as well, being newly rejuvenated and hydrated from the copious amounts of fresh water she drank along with the all-natural fruit and other organic foods she consumed during her stay on the island.

A slight smile came to her pinked lips as she saw that her mouth was no longer chapped, cracked, dried, and void of any color from the freezing cold, harsh east coast winds and low temperatures. Rather, her mouth was smooth, clean, and sported a nice, rose petal shade from the coconut milk Leilani lent her for the use of their care.

The young woman's flaxen hair was glossy and vibrant despite its elaborate plaited style. Tropical Hawaiian flowers consisting of aloalos, hibiscuses, and plumerias in different colors were intricately interlaced into her hair with Whitney's gentle hands and the utmost care. Another smile came upon Helga's lips as she brought a hand to her head and allowed for it to slide over the flowers in her hair with delicacy as the exhilarating aromas of the summery plants truly relaxed her.

In addition to the blonde's hair and complexion, her sapphire pools were no longer tired and weighed down with utter exhaustion. Instead, the young woman's eyes were rapt and alert, reinvigorated from the extra sleep she received and the rest obtained whilst on vacation. The blackened circles that dominated them during here pregnancy were gone and replaced with the hue of her healthier skin tone. Yet the sadness and longing for her baby still remained present.

Not noticing this right away, Whitney turned to her cousin and asked, "Isn't she beautiful, Leilani?"

"She's _gorgeous_," the oldest of the three affirmed, smiling at her cousin's handiwork and then at Helga, only to notice the forlorn look in her eyes. "_Nani_, what's wrong?" she inquired as she used the nickname designated for the young woman (meaning _beautiful_) and put a loving arm around her shoulders.

"Do – do you really _think_ that?" the teenager exhaled as her breath shook. "I – I mean… this is the _first time _I've looked at myself in the mirror for a _long time _and haven't _hated myself _or what I look like. But I…"

She looked downward and indicated to her body as she resumed speaking, "I still feel like a _cow_ most days, and I don't want to whale watch either because _I feel like one too_. The pregnancy weight isn't coming off and it just sucks!"

The teenager's breath became fast and somewhat erratic as she finished her outburst. Feeling tears prick her azure pools, she paused and turned away with the intent of regaining her composure. Helga didn't want to cry in front of Whitney and Leilani again – not after seeing her improved appearance and realizing that abhorring herself was completely unnecessary.

_Then **why **did she feel like a failure?_

"_Nani,"_ Leilani assured the young woman as if reading her mind, "You _cannot _beat yourself up over this! Your body went through _childbirth!_ That experience is _so _traumatizing for _anyone _who's had a baby, no matter how easy her experience was." After a brief silence, where only the crashing of the ocean waves were heard, the woman added solemnly, "From what I understand, you suffered from some pretty severe complications when you had your son."

Helga nodded as she confessed whilst sparing most of the details, "I felt as though my body was being ripped apart the entire time and… and as though I had _no control _over my own movements or _my own physical actions_!" The blonde teenager then shook her head and remarked, "After Matthew was born, I was put on _so many _painkillers just so I could lie down in bed – _that's _how bad it was!" She took a deep breath and continued, "When I gave my son up in the aftermath of that, saw what I looked like, and noticed how much the pregnancy changed my body and my physical appearance… not only did I _look _and _feel _like a humpback whale, but I felt like I went through _so much _– through Hell and back – _not _to have Matthew with me."

As both Whitney and Leilani looked at Helga with sympathy swimming in their brown eyes, the blonde admitted, "I still feel that way even though I know it's selfish. I _should _be happy that Matthew has a better life, but it's still _hard _seeing all the reminders… such as the celebrities who get their bodies back instantly, people in my neighborhood who have new babies and walk by my house everyday. Whenever I see them, I just want to ask them if I can hold their children even though they're complete strangers and would think I was _weird _if I were to do that."

"I felt the _exact same way _after I gave Ryan up," Leilani said as she gave Helga an extra squeeze. "I know how that feels."

"I – I just want to fill that void so badly… and then, what if Matthew doesn't want to meet me?" the teenager asked, as her voice cracked and became thick with sadness, "If that's the case, it'll be like I gave up_everything – _my body, emotional and hormonal wellness, _my life… _for _nothing_."

Before Helga could reign in all that she felt, the sobs escaped from her throat and made themselves manifest. Hot, salty tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks as she cried loudly for her baby. Leilani instantly embraced the blonde teenager and rocked her back and forth, knowing _exactly _how she felt.

Giving the teenager another hug, Leilani said, "First off Helga, the sacrifices you made for your boy _weren't _in vain. Even though you gave up _so much, _he's going to have an amazing life and opportunities that you wouldn't have been able to give him. You can't say that everything is – and will be – all for naught even if he chooses not to meet you." The woman gave a breathy sigh and added, "Besides, I don't see why Matthew_wouldn't _want to let you into his life when he grows up. You're a remarkable young lady with a heart of gold and so much to offer the world. However, you _cannot _let a decision that won't be made for another eighteen years dictate your entire life."

"I just want to fast forward everything, you know?" Helga said, looking up at her new mentor, "I want go to the time where I won't have to feel this… this _pain _so intensely. I mean… I always knew that I'd never get over the adoption, but I feel that it'll go back to how it is now if I don't get to meet my son."

"It will," Leilani said, her voice filled with honesty. "However, with a lot of tears and a lot of time, that pain will become dulled as well. If you were to ever experience that devastation – and I know of other birthmothers who have – they say it _never _goes away and that _it is _worse the second time around, but they also know that everything happens for a reason. Though it breaks their hearts, they know that it's probably for the best."

Helga thought that was crazy. She couldn't fathom how _never_ reuniting with Matthew would be for the best after everything she surrendered solely for his own sake.

Seeing that the young woman was skeptical, Leilani told her, "I've had thirteen years for the heartache I feel to diminish from it tearing my heart and soul apart to what it is now. I also know that all the healing I've worked towards could very well come crashing down on me in three years."

"Yeah _right_, Leilani," Whitney chimed in with a roll of the eyes. "Ryan _loves _you."

Giving her younger cousin a smile, the oldest of the three added, "If my boy decides not to include me in his life, then yes… that would break my heart. However, I don't let that possibility take over my life, and neither should you. The truth is – you _deserve to be happy, _Helga… and now _you're _the one who needs to be taken care of for a change."

The teenager dwelled on everything Leilani said, not knowing how to respond. Seeing that the blonde was at a loss for words, the woman questioned in a gentle voice, "What did you do after the adoption?"

"I had a week-long break between the official hand-off and the first day of school," Helga responded shakily. "I remember wanting to _hibernate _that entire week. When I wasn't being total zombie from oversleeping, I kept myself holed up in my room reading, writing, doing everything I could to avoid Sid – "

"The baby's father?"

Helga nodded as she continued, "That was when I'd see those complete strangers with their new babies walking past my window. It got to the point where I had to shut the curtains in my room just so I could restrain myself from doing something _completely insane_."

Taking a deep, unstable breath, she explained, "During that time, I avoided looking in the mirror because I didn't want to see what my post-pregnancy body looked like. When I saw myself for the first time after the fact, I broke down…" Tears came to the young woman's eyes again as she added, "I _loathed_ seeing myself like that."

"I did too, _Nani_," Leilani said. "You're not a bad person for feeling that way. In fact, I know that even the women who _do _keep their babies have issues with their bodies after having children. It's a very natural feeling, Helga… but tell me – what did you do after school started?

"Nothing really," Helga shrugged. "Since I couldn't exercise or do anything physically strenuous – and still can't – I started a diet to lose all the baby weight. I _despised _seeing what I looked like… a _fat load of good that did, though_," she snorted, her voice bitter. "Basically… I went to school, did my homework, studied for my tests, kept my grades up in my Advanced Placement courses, and lost _a lot _of sleep in the process."

The teenager then gave a cynical laugh as the pondered the irony of surrendering the slumber brought on by the heartache she felt prior to sacrificing it for the sake of her education.

As she let the odd paradox flee her mind, the young woman resumed, "I also continued my appointments with Doctor Bliss and went to a support group for birthmothers. Sometimes I'd see my friends outside of school, but after what happened… I felt as though they were suffocating me. We're on different planes in life now and I feel so much older than them… and well," she blushed with fury whilst dwelling on her one true love, "I miss Arnold."

Leilani pursed her lips and pointed out, "It sounds like you were trying to keep busy. That's what I did too and it completely exploded in my face."

"What – what happened?" Helga asked, her voice low and quiet as she wondered whether or not she'd fallen into the same trap the older woman was set to tell her about.

"Ryan was born March eighteenth and given to his parents a week later. Afterwards, I threw myself into losing the baby weight – I controlled my diet by cutting out all processed foods and sweets. I exercised _every single day_ for an hour and a half. Additionally, I got a full-time job at the supermarket down the road, registered for a fifteen-credit workload at Hawaii Community College for the summer semester, and went on outings with my friends as if nothing were wrong. I was doing _everything I could _to run away from the grief I felt that came with missing Ryan and the selfish part of me wishing that I hadn't given him up."

She averted her chocolate eyes away from the blonde teenager, not wanting to remember that time, and said, "It was four months later – where _you're at_, that I had my major breakdown. Beforehand, I wouldn't let myself cry over what I'd done, because I knew that the tears wouldn't stop coming if I did. I was too afraid of them and scared of being vulnerable even after doing what was best for my son and being in that position when I was pregnant. Looking back on things, keeping myself occupied and not letting my mind wander toward my child and the adoption was the coping mechanism I used to run away from the anguish I felt."

"When you… _fell apart _– how did that go? Helga wondered aloud.

"I was home alone the night it happened, having just finished my shift at the supermarket. In addition to attending community college and getting straight A's in my classes, I took on long hours at work as a means of keeping myself continually on to go without thinking about the baby I relinquished. My boss felt that I was working too much and stressing myself out, but I ignored the concerns she had for me. My parents felt the same way as well, not just regarding my job, but also about my attitude with the situation as a whole and how I was handling it. However, I was stubborn and didn't listen to them.

"I remember coming home that evening to an empty house – my younger siblings were either out with their friends or with my mother and father performing at some luau. It was then that I realized how _lonely _I was that the tears finally came and would not stop coming.

"That evening, I cried for everything I lost and couldn't stop myself no matter how hard I tried. When my family came home and saw me like that, I realized how _wrong _I'd been in not allowing myself to mourn for Ryan. It was then that my parents sat me down and told me that I needed to _take care of myself first and let myself grieve properly _before I could do anything else… so I did."

Astounded how straightforward Leilani was in telling her story, the teenager queried, "How did you do that?"

"The first thing I did was quit my job at the supermarket," the woman responded. "Then at the end of my first college semester, I chose to defer an entire year. I spent that time doing what I _should've _done earlier – working through those mixed feelings and the bitter sweetness I felt in giving up my baby. I allowed myself to cry whenever I needed to… I _rested_ and stopped working out for a while. I realize how much I wore my body out since I didn't let myself take it easy the way I should have after the adoption took place. I indulged a little bit when it came to eating my favorite junk foods. Sometimes I splurged on _everything _when I went shopping. _I relaxed_. _I took care of myself and let others take care of me._"

Helga stared up at Leilani and remarked, "So what you're saying is that I need to… wind down a bit?"

Letting her dark eyes rest on the young woman, Leilani said, "That's _exactly _what I'm saying." Taking a deep breath, she put in, "I'll admit that you're _way ahead of me _when it came to… letting yourself _be sad _over placing your son for adoption and for _letting yourself cry_ and _feel that heartache_, because I didn't.

"At the same time, you're also trying to be so strong during this ordeal and you're so afraid of letting others see you like this that you're being _really hard _on yourself. Helga, you've pitted yourself against celebrities – people who aren't _exactly human _and who put themselves in danger by losing the baby weight they way they do… parents who are actually _ready _– emotionally, financially, and are at the right age to have a baby, and the people around you who can't even _fathom _what you've been through and put up with that it's really taken a toll on you.

"You've spent such a long time taking care of your baby – being put through excruciating physical changes to ensure his growth, surrendering control of your hormonal balance, putting in the necessary time and effort ensuring that he'd be placed with the right parents, putting your body and _your life _on the line for him during your pregnancy and the delivery… Helga, you've sacrificed _a lot _for this child, and now that he's in another vicinity, you don't know how to go on."

"Leilani's right," Whitney put forward. "This is the _first time _I've seen you at ease with yourself. Even when you were with Arnold, there were still times when you were really tense around other people, and this is why."

The blonde nodded in agreement even as the ideas of letting others help her out, and more importantly, taking care of herself were still foreign to her. Having felt that Arnold took on the role of being her caregiver, protector, and support system during the latter course of her pregnancy, the whole notion of it hadn't occurred to her until now.

Yet, that didn't mean it wasn't important. The teenager now knew that before she could continue on in the process of repairing her heart and moving forward in life that she needed to take things much easier than she had been.

Whitney's cousin looked to the young woman again and advised, "First off, let yourself _rest and relax_. Don't strain yourself or feel that you have to reach this unattainable standard the rest of the world thinks you should. They're _wrong_.

"Sleep in or take a nap. Hell, do _both _on the same day if you want to! Take a bubble bath. Do what you love – read a book and write all the poetry you want. Let yourself eat a cupcake or two… or even three. If you're at the store and you see something you _really want_, buy it!" Giving Helga a smile, she added, "More importantly _always know _that it's okay to cry. If there's ever a time when you feel particularly sad, or when you miss your son… just let it out. Your heart will thank you for it."

Also, Whitney chimed in, "Don't forget to let _us _keep taking care of you… because we _love _doing it!" She then threw her arms around the young woman and said, "You're _amazing, _Helga. You're _beautiful_. You're not a cow… and you're not a whale, either."

"Thanks," Helga said, letting herself smile. "What the both of you… and your families have done for me… means _so much_."

"Well, we wouldn't _do _or _say _those things if we didn't mean them," Whitney responded with a no-nonsense tone of voice. "Besides, you're positively _stunning _with that new hairstyle, but you would be even without it."

The blonde indicated to her plaited braid and said with a light shrug, "Well, I _guess _I look pretty good!"

"No," Whitney said, "You _do _look good, Helga!"

"If you say so," the blonde countered with playfulness as she struck a few mock modeling poses all in the name of good fun.

Letting out a slew of laughter, Leilani said, "Does this mean the 'It Girl' is back?"

Resisting the urge to face palm, Helga groaned, "_Please _don't tell me you saw those pictures!" as Whitney and her cousin laughed uproariously.

Once the thought of her modeling career making a comeback reached the teenager, she joined in, glad for a reason to laugh at long last.

**II**

"You know," Uncle Stephen said, tossing the basketball to Sid with such force that it caused the young man to nearly buckle in from both the whiplash of throw and the frigid, cloudy weather outside, "At the beginning of _every _sports season, I _always _give my boys and their teammates _the talk_."

"The… the _talk_?" Sid said, still holding the brownball. "Don't their dads give them that?"

"I'm sure they do," his uncle answered, "But that doesn't mean their kids will listen to them… _you _didn't."

The dark-haired adolescent looked down in shame as he began bouncing the orange and black ball up and down, not knowing how to respond.

"I _always _tell my boys and their teammates _not _to have sex with the first pretty little thing on legs they lay their eyes on. I _warn _them not to put their dicks in it!" the older man shouted out, exasperated. "But without fail, there's _always _someone who doesn't listen, gets a girl knocked up, and tosses what opportunity he might've had of leaving this blasted cow town behind out the window."

"My – my mom mentioned you telling her that," the teenager admitted as he finished dribbling the ball as he then aimed it at the hoop, but missed.

His intimidating relative caught the basketball and said coldly, "You can't toss the ball into the damn ring but you can get a girl pregnant before learning how to drive." Proceeding to make a perfect shot, the man muttered, "Go figure."

"Look," Sid said defensively, "I didn't _ask _for that to happen! It was a heat of the moment kind of thing. We were both virgins when we did it!" The young man's face turned red as a result of his sudden outburst and it took a few moments for him to regain his composure and finish his explanation. "I know that's a stupid way of looking at things, but it happened so fast and _neither of us _thought we'd get a _baby _out of it."

"That's what a lot of the students I coached said too," Uncle Stephen said grimly. "The ones who are stupid enough to have sex and get their girls knocked up in the process _always _think they're the exception to the rule. They don't think it could _ever_ happen to them because they're good-looking sports athletes, the most popular people in school, members of the student council, and on the homecoming and prom courts. Those people think they're exempt since they see themselves as being above their classmates who aren't the same as they are."

"But they're not!" Sid cried out with frustration. "What makes them think they are, anyway?"

"I don't know," the older man replied, "But they're the ones who have the gall to act all shocked and as though they didn't see it coming. It also happens to the same morons who rationalize doing the deed by using cheap condoms they bought on the street or because the girl is on some form of birth control she didn't obtain legally… God knows you can't obtain _any _of it here in Fabius."

"Why can't you?"

Staring at his nephew with a critical eye, Uncle Stephen added, "This wretched town is more backwards than polygamist compound. Ideally Sid, you would've kept it in your pants and _not _been a coward in abandoning the poor girl you impregnated, but at least you did it in a more open-minded environment… be grateful for _that, _at least."

"Grateful?" Sid demanded as he released his breath into the chilly air, "What the fuck am I supposed to be so happy about?"

"Do you have _any _idea what happens to the ones who screw themselves over as a result of teenage pregnancy here?" the adolescent's relative snarled, his voice filled with ice. "They're _stuck_. In this town, the _only option _is keeping the baby and staying with the person you did the deed with, even if it was just a one-night stand. You _have _to stay with the person even if you don't love him or her. You don't _dare _make the drive out to the closest abortion clinic or think _twice _about relinquishing the child even though it's the best thing for all involved.

"When you're from a small, Irish-Catholic town, word gets out _fast _and everyone here _knows _everybody's business. Hell, I used to think the high depression rates and the Prozac popping was attributed exclusively to Utah, but after seeing this happen to kids who throw their futures away _too many times to count_… now I know, Sid. Now I know."

The teenager could do nothing but nod in agreement as his heart beat loudly within his chest. His thoughts turned toward those people his Uncle Stephen mentioned and how all the plans they made were gone in the blink of an eye. Sid couldn't contemplate how it must've felt to forgo your one chance of getting out of someplace so closed-minded and with such a narrow viewpoint on life. He realized that things would probably be a lot worse if you were stuck with someone you didn't love. Only adding to the devastation was knowing how poisonous that setting would be for the child involved.

If anything, the cycle just repeated itself and consisted of the few rich and wealthy ones like his Aunt Mary and her family, those who didn't know how to think outside of their mother and father's perspectives such as his Aunt Alice and his Uncles Peter and James, washed-up athletes who couldn't get out due to injuries like Uncle Stephen, and the products of teenage lust.

Sid thought of how history was simply a recurring event in the grand scheme of things. The young man then realized how fortunate he was that his mother got out of Fabius while she could. The teenager felt blessed knowing that he wasn't raised in such a closed-minded environment where the narrowest of perspectives reigned supreme and dominated the town's citizens and their way of life. The people here were so focused on their traditions even when they didn't know the meaning behind them that to try and breathe any new life into the settlement resulted in gossip, ridicule, and slander. People in Fabius were so set in their ways that to do anything outside of what was normal, such as his mother, his Uncles Luke, Mark, Richard, and John, and his Aunts Sarah and Rebecca often sent things into an uproar.

He joined those members of his family months ago by letting his own son be adopted into another family. The raven-haired young man put his faith entirely in the parents chosen for Matthew despite having only one meeting with them. Sid knew Kevin and Christine were capable of giving his child the life he never could and truly did appreciate them.

At that moment, the teenager also realized how grateful he was for Helga and the courage she possessed in pursuing the endeavor. The adolescent knew she had her heart set on keeping their baby for the longest time, but ultimately understood how detrimental raising a child in such an environment would be.

Fabius, New York was a tried-and-true indicator of that.

Feeling a large hand on his shoulder, Sid looked up and saw Uncle Stephen standing beside him. His relative bounced the basketball single-handedly before catching it again and said, "It really puts things into perspective, doesn't it?"

The teenager nodded and replied, "I can't think of anyone else I'd want raising my son other than Kevin and Christine. The adoption was the best thing for him."

"I wish more people thought like the young woman you got pregnant," Uncle Stephen said. "It was _her _idea, wasn't it?"

Sid nodded.

"You did something _really despicable _in abandoning her, but you're doing everything you can in making things right _now_," Uncle Stephen acknowledged. "Getting help with that psychologist of yours, doing better in school, and having a job lined up after the holidays really _is _something… it's more than a lot of teenagers in your place would do. Hell, a lot of the kids here – even _after _knowing their fate – have to be forced into doing the right thing. It took you a while to come around, Sid… but at least you _made that decision _on your own."

"I try, Uncle Stephen," Sid said as he shrugged his shoulders. "I really hope it doesn't all come crashing down on me if Matthew doesn't want to meet me… but if that's the case, then I'll just have to live with knowing that I only brought it on myself."

The older man pursed his lips knowingly and said, "Only time will tell on that, Sid… but I'll tell you right now that it's _not _worth it to let that rule your life for the next eighteen years. It really isn't. I let that happen to me after I got injured during my senior year of high school – I pushed my sons to be the absolute _best _in everything only because I wanted them to get out like I never could... but it only led me to the realization that I was still living in the past _and _it alienated my boys. They all got out of here and are at different universities on sports scholarships, but they _hate _coming back; getting them home for Christmas was like pulling teeth."

"I don't blame them," the adolescent mumbled to himself.

He'd hate coming back here too.

Uncle Stephen nodded as he saw his nephew's sentiments concerning the matter and suggested, "Why don't we head inside? It's getting colder by the minute."

The teenager acquiesced reluctantly and trudged through the snow with his uncle, on their way back to his grandparents' house. He _really hated _being there and the first few days were torture. The majority of his relatives and cousins did nothing but completely balk at him while his grandparents, and more devout family members consisting of his Uncles Peter and James and Aunts Mary and Alice seized whatever opportunity they could in lecturing him on how irresponsible he was.

It was a good thing his Aunt Rebecca was in Fabius for Christmas as well, because she didn't take shit from _anybody_.

She was the one who ended all the derision, haranguing, put-downs, and ridicule that befell Sid and his parents over the course of their visit thus far. Aunt Rebecca was a woman you did not cross and more often than not, people knew better than to set her off just the tiniest bit.

Unfortunately, that didn't mean the cruel, endless taunts ended.

Sid stepped inside the family room and found himself amidst the numerous crosses that served as wall décor and an indicator of the O'Flaherty's Irish-Catholic roots. The hunter green couches clashed horrifically with the burgundy partitions and brown carpet. Bistre oak wood coffee and end tables, in addition to a small entertainment center were present in the gathering place and adorned with miniature statues of the Catholic saints, rosary beads kept in ornate boxes, and large portraits of the Last Supper, the Savior Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph, other prominent figures in Catholicism, and the current pope. A large Christmas tree decorated with homemade ornaments, popcorn strings, and fuzzy streamers in red, blue, and silver shades complete with a stain glassed "Star of Bethlehem" tree topper stood in the far left corner.

The room was also filled with his mother's relatives, most of them sporting either auburn or deep brown tresses with grey eyes. His grandparents had stark white hair that could be seen from a mile away. Upon seeing his parents sitting next to his Aunt Rebecca, he began making his way over towards them when he found himself cornered by his uncles Peter and James, who were rather orthodox in their religion and way of life.

"Sidney," James said with a cool tone of voice, "You're _just _the man I wanted to see. How are you doing?"

"How do you _think _I'm doing?" the young man retorted, "Especially with _you_ around?"

Though taken aback, his devout uncle continued, "Listen, will you and your parents be in town on Sunday?"

The teenager opened his mouth to respond when his mother stood up from her place on the couch and interjected, "_What business is it of yours?"_

"Oh, Melinda," Peter said as he joined the conversation with a roll of the eyes, "You always have to interrogate everything, don't you? We were just wondering if Sidney here wouldn't mind coming and telling his story to many the youth of our church here in Fabius – apparently Stephen's talks aren't doing _quite_ enough."

The room went silent after Peter's proclamation. Sid turned toward Uncle Stephen and saw that his face was now beet red from embarrassment. Meanwhile, his grandparents and aunts Mary and Alice looked smug, as if they felt Sid, Stephen, and everyone else in the family didn't measure up and felt that they deserved what was coming to them.

It was only when his mother remained firm in where she stood, with her face now wearing a look of complete anger, that everyone took notice. With a nod of approval from his father and Aunt Rebecca, she turned to her family and began speaking.

"_Peter, James,"_ she said, her voice loud and unwavering, "_Shut up_!"

Sid looked up at his two uncles, who were utterly taken aback at their younger sister's proclamation. As she continued glaring at them, her father stood up from his plush barcalounger and glowered at her. He was well over six feet tall, had a thickset build, and piercing eyes whose gaze could make anyone cower in complete terror.

"_What did you just say?" _he demanded crossly.

"_You heard me!" _his mother shot back, "_I told them to_ _**shut up,**_ _because they have_ _**no idea **__what I've put up with most of these years… __**you and Mom don't either!**__"_

She took a deep breath and added, "_I've spent all my time in this family being belittled and feeling as though I'm not good enough if I don't fit into the unchanging mold that you expect of me. In fact, have you noticed that_ _**most of your children left**_ _**this stupid town **__and don't agree with anything you've taught them?"_ Indicating to the decorations up all over, she said, "_**THE EVIDENCE IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!"**_

"Now Melinda," the elderly woman sitting across from her said condescendingly, "You only brought this on yourself! You're just trying to shift the blame over to us when life with a _car mechanic _isn't what you thought it be and after Sidney got some girl pregnant – "

"_Okay, now __**the both of you**_ _have gone_ _**too far!**_" Sid's father shouted as he stood up and defended his wife. He put his arms around her and countered to his in-laws, "_Don't you __**DARE**_ _talk bad about my family!"_

Before anyone else could get a word in, Aunt Rebecca stood up and said, "Melinda's right, you know. You've driven most of us away because of the cruel, domineering surroundings you brought us up in! As for the ones who _haven't _left yet – " She indicated to Peter, James, Mary, and Alice with an unfriendly look in her eyes before concluding, "_They're just content with drinking your Kool-Aid! That's __**just **__as bad if not worse!"_

The next thing Sid knew, an argument of epic proportions erupted among his parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. He and the rest of his cousins watched the scene unfold before them completely dumbfounded, not knowing if they should try remedying the situation or if it was better to just walk away.

However, it was Christmas Eve and _none _of them wanted their memories of the holiday marred with contention and household drama.

Sid didn't.

Living through this first Christmas without his son was bad enough already and the adolescent didn't need his own family making it worse even though he seldom saw most of them.

This was supposed to be the time not only for miracles, but also for comfort and joy, happiness, peace on earth, and having those you love close by you. It was about giving of yourself and putting aside your differences because the family and friendships you had were more important than your ego. Yet as the young man stood by and watched the fight fold out among his relatives, he realized just how much they _lost _that spirit and how it'd already been gone for such a long time on the O'Flaherty side.

Finding that he couldn't stand it anymore, the teenager realized that there was something he had to do about it.

His hand resting on his front pants pocket where he kept his iPod, Sid retrieved the music device and turned the volume up to its maximum capacity. As the dispute among his "adult" ancestors grew more contentious, he snuck over towards the entertainment center and plugged his iPod into his grandfather's ancient stereo system before setting all the volume controls to their greatest limits.

Upon pushing the play button, the drums and guitar riffs of Twisted Sister's "Heavy Metal Christmas" made themselves known to those in the gathering space. His grandparents and more conservative relatives put their hands over their ears while his mother and father, Aunt Rebecca, and most of his cousins began rocking out.

Seeing that everyone else looked bewildered, Sid turned off the music and stood up. His entire body trembled from nervousness knowing what was to result from this.

Exhaling outward, he inquired, "Do you _really think _this… this _arguing_ is getting us anywhere? _Look at us!_ This family is _falling apart _and it's because we're so caught up on appearances and trying to out do each other. We all like to think that we're better because we still do what our parents tell us, or because we went against the communal grain and abandoned where we came from, but the truth is…"

"_What, Sid?" _his grandmother stipulated. She put a hand on her hip and looked rather haughty as she glared at him. "_Who do you think __**you**_ _are to lecture us when __**you **__were the one to abandon the girl you impregnated? Why do you think you're all high and mighty after becoming a father at fifteen and then pawning the child off to another couple?"_

Feeling his blood boil within him, the teenager blew hot air out of his nose and countered, "_First of all, __**I didn't pawn my son off.**_ _His birthmother and I placed him for adoption with a couple we deemed fit to raise him. Matthew's parents are __**amazing**_ _people, and you'll be damn lucky if you become __**half**_ _of what they are. Second… yes, it's true that I walked out on Helga when she needed me most, and that's something I'll regret__**every single day **__for the rest of my life, but that's not either here or there. You have __**no right **__to place judgment over her or __**me.**_ _I __**know **__that adoption was the right thing to do, and __**I'm sure as Hell grateful that I didn't get Helga pregnant in THIS place, because it would've RUINED Matthew's life.**__"_

As Sid turned and gave his Uncle Stephen a thumbs-up, his grandfather grunted, "Well, my great-grandson's _adoptive parents _named him Matthew Caleb… at least he got two Bible names out of it."

Rolling his eyes, the raven-haired young man finished, "We're all in the wrong here thinking that we're better than our _own family,_ but that's not true at all. Neither of us are perfect – least of all _me _–and yet we've used our differences to drive each other apart. That's _not _what Christmas – and what being a _family _is about! I – I've realized that more than ever."

Not knowing what else to do, the adolescent took a seat upon one of the vacant couches, brought his knees to his chest, and looked down. Sid really had no idea what just happened and wasn't sure he _wanted _to know. Choosing to block out the activity and noise that infiltrated his senses, the teenager ignored the comments from those around him – his cousins either saying that he had _a lot_ of nerve or admired him for defying his grandparents' conformist ways, Uncle Stephen commenting on how he was only one brave enough to say what everyone needed to hear but didn't necessarily want to, his more traditional relatives being brought to their knees in humility, his Aunt Rebecca commenting on how much he'd grown up in such a short period of time…

That was when he felt his mother's loving arms around him as he took in her familiar, comforting scent of dryer sheets and subtle cherry blossom perfume. She let out a slew of air and said, "I'm sorry, Sid. I'm _so_sorry."

"Why?" he asked, his voice in earnest. "This… this was all _my fault, _not yours."

"We _never _should've gone on this _stupid _trip," she muttered. "It just culminated in me being upset with you for all the wrong reasons and wrapping myself up in other people's opinions – and they were the same judgments and attitudes that I shouldn't have _ever _cared about in the first place."

"But Mom," the adolescent commented, "_Something _needed to be done about this… hopefully – " he turned his head and saw his father talking with his in-laws somewhat amicably, "This will make things better… even if it takes a while and it means that we just keep in touch with everyone through phone calls and letters."

His mother gave a small laugh and said, "That's probably the best thing for everyone involved." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and then got up and joined his father, beginning the process of making amends at long last.

As Sid watched everyone gathered together in the family room while they repaired relationships and shared reconciliations, his Aunt Rebecca took a seat next to him on the couch and put an acrylic, French manicured hand on his shoulder whilst giving him a wide smile.

"Congratulations, Sid," she grinned. "You just exposed everything that's wrong with the Clan O'Flaherty."

"I don't know if that's a bad thing or not yet," the young man sighed, his voice heavy and despondent. "Maybe it just made everything worse."

His wise aunt shook her head and remarked, "I wouldn't say that, Sid. Look around you – people are _finally growing up,_ apologizing, and forgiving each other… and it's because of _you… _a fifteen-year-old. That says_a lot_."

When the young man didn't respond, she gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze and said, "Hey. If we – meaning you, your parents, and I – leave Fabius in just five minutes and drive fairly fast… we can get to the Big Apple at a reasonable hour. Something gives me the feeling that you'd rather spend Christmas _anywhere but_ _here._"

"Well, after today…" Sid chuckled as he let his voice trail off, feeling it become heavier and filled with sadness. Finding that he was about to cry, he said, "This Christmas is hard enough as it is, you know? I – I don't need anything else adding to that."

"Okay," his aunt nodded as she squeezed his shoulders one last time before getting up, "We'll head out soon."

The adolescent smiled as he watched his aunt talk with his parents, and they both grinned upon hearing her suggestion. Afterward, the three of them rushed over to Sid, with his father telling them to pack his bags because they were on their way to New York City.

Now that it was the teenager's turn to be excited about something, he stood up from his place on the couch and proceeded to the small guest room he and his parents shared, whereupon he packed up his suitcase in seconds. When Sid finished, he found himself facing his mother and father, who held out a large, beige-colored package for him to take.

"Your father and I planned on waiting until tomorrow to give you this, since it'll be Christmas and all, but after tonight… we felt that this would cheer you up a bit more after what's transpired."

The young man took the parcel with trembling hands, letting out a small gasp upon seeing the return address.

It was from the adoption agency.

He sat down on the bed and opened the one present he'd been waiting for with haste. The adolescent felt his breath catch in his throat as his deep brown eyes rested on a fawn leather journal. Sid turned to the first page with trepidation and let his brown-eyed gaze rest upon a picture of Matthew with the beginnings of a smile and his vibrant sapphire orbs staring straight ahead at the camera. With tears in his eyes, he turned away from the photograph in front of him and saw smaller, much older image glued in the top right corner of the journal's back front cover.

The picture showed a significantly younger Kevin standing against the backdrop of Lake Coeur d'Alene and the surrounding mountains. In the photograph, he was slightly thinner with thicker, curlier hair and the hints of a rosier complexion and perhaps even a sunburn upon his fair skin. Kevin had a wide smile upon his face and his blue eyes glowed with happiness as he kept his right arm around the young man standing next to him. In contrast to Kevin, this person had russet skin and longish red hair with hazel eyes. He was tall and lanky, wearing an easygoing closed-mouthed grin.

_Matthew…_

"That's who my son is named after," Sid whispered as he continued looking at the photograph. His eyes then fell on the words written in cursive just beneath the vintage image in front of him:

_Dear Sid,_

_We hope that this first of many updates finds you well and that you are doing better. We realize that these few months must have been rather difficult for you and it is our hope that you'll continue to improve with time._

_Having Matthew in our lives has brought Kevin and I a joy that is truly indescribable; not only that, but it's also one we could never picture ourselves imagining. We appreciate you and your willingness to make it possible._

_Inside you'll find notes and photographs detailing Matthew's life so far. He's happy, healthy, and is deeply loved by those around him. Kevin and I will never be able to thank you enough for this and we appreciate it more than you know._

_We hope you have a Happy Christmas and New Year._

_Love always,_

_Kevin, Christine, and Matthew_

The young man took a deep breath and closed the journal, intent on looking at it more whilst in the car on the way to the Big Apple.

He really wanted to get out of Fabius.

But most importantly, the teenager yearned to see how his son was doing.

**III**

After a delicious breakfast consisting of homemade coffeecake, fresh fruit, banana pancakes with a macadamia nut glaze, and pitchers of guava and mango juices to drink, Helga sat underneath the Christmas tree with Whitney and her family. She wore large, white flower lei around her shoulders along with a smaller, purple one on her head as a crown; her friend made both the flower necklace and headpiece for the blonde that morning. They opened presents whilst laughing, taking pictures, and taking in the festive, yet coastal trappings of the Hawaiian beach house. Despite being decorated in its entirety for the holiday season, numerous hints indicating to the oceanic atmosphere were interspersed with the merry adornments of red and green as well.

Seashells and tiny sand dollars were interwoven inside the garland and the small, white twinkling lights and plaid ribbon contained therein. In addition, the family Christmas tree was ornamented with miniature pearls, clear baubles filled with island sand, minute puka shells, and pieces of coral in various sizes. Flower leis in several brilliant colors and types were strung along its branches. Lastly, a large starfish was perched diagonally at the very top, giving the holiday embellishments a bit of a mischievous, yet celebratory air to them.

The young woman finished opening the majority of her presents, which consisted of a gift certificate to Lamoreaux's Bookstore from her parents and an elaborate spa kit (Including bath salts, body spray, face masks, lotion, shower gel, and a loofah all in her favorite color and scent – rosemary and mint) that Olga gave her.

Additionally, Phoebe mailed her a handcrafted journal from Japan and Whitney presented her with various scented tropical candles. Her friend's family also gave her a detailed coffee table book about the Big Island.

Now, only two presents remained. Helga was both excited _and _nervous about opening these very gifts in particular.

The first one, a thick cream-colored package, was sent from the adoption agency and held inside it the first of many biannual updates regarding the charge of her son, Matthew.

The second package was smaller, but was from Arnold – her beloved and the person who'd been Helga's main supporter during the later half of her difficult pregnancy, labor, and delivery.

Exhaling outward with slowness, the blonde held up the presents and asked, "Is it okay if I open these… _alone? _At least for now?"

Whitney nodded and replied, "Take all the time you need."

Upon mumbling a quick "thank you," the teenager rushed upstairs and into the guest bedroom, setting the two gifts down on the dresser prior to pulling the long rectangular shades upward. She then proceeded in opening the large window before choosing to take in the beautiful view and collect her bearings before opening the final two packages right away.

Helga put her face in her hands as she allowed her elbows to rest on the ledge. Whilst taking in the pristine cerulean ocean, unblemished sands, tall palm trees, and clear sunny sky, she spotted a few surfers and beach goers in the distance.

Sighing contentedly as she soon felt calm again, the blonde turned around, reached for the beige parcel, and began ripping it open whilst she sat on the bed.

After unearthing a brown leather journal, the teenager opened it and instantly looked into the azure eyes Matthew inherited from her; and though the likeness her son shared with Sid was still a sore sport for the young woman, she melted upon seeing the beginnings of a smile on his face.

Turning her gaze to the left, the blonde's blue pools rested momentarily on the worn picture of a teenage Kevin with Matthew's namesake. Whilst smiling at the small, but fitting tribute, Helga focused her attention on the letter Christine wrote in neat, cursive handwriting:

_Dear Helga,_

_When Kevin and I brought Matthew home to California after the hand-off took place, we couldn't help but wonder how you would go about handling the aftermath of this pivotal event. Our hearts were filled with happiness, gratitude, and sorrow on that day; we were **thrilled **to finally have a child of our own, grateful for your sacrifice and willingness to trust us with raising your son, and we also felt sad… we knew that the adoption would likely cause you a lot of heartbreak._

_Kevin and I know that there isn't much we can do. However, we want you to know first and foremost that Matthew is happy, healthy and **so **loved. He has completed our family in every possible way and brought so much joy into our lives._

_We hope you'll enjoy the pictures and this first biannual update. Our family wishes you a Merry Christmas, a Happy New Year, and a future filled with fulfilled hopes and accomplished dreams._

_We love you!_

_Always,_

_~Kevin, Christine, and Matthew_

When the young woman finished reading the heartfelt note, she turned the page and allowed her blue eyes to absorb the photographs and written commentary in front of her.

The first few pages chronicled Matthew's earliest days in his new home. He was asleep in the majority of those pictures, but a few of them managed to catch his curious blue-eyed gaze as he wondered and marveled at his new surroundings.

Kevin and Christine were _beyond _ecstatic, wearing the happiest of smiles as their eyes glowed with delight over having their baby boy home with them at last. The former, who captured most of the photographs seen in the journal, was never seen without his camera; to Helga's amusement, Christine caught a few shots of her husband taking pictures of Matthew with her iPhone.

The next section of the biannual update detailed many of Christine's childhood best friends holding Matthew during a garden lunch date and the baby shower that followed. Seeing her baby with all the new clothes, stuffed animals, numerous slings and pacifiers in different colors, toys, books, hats, and even an elaborate swing had the teenager taking back the earlier declaration made that her child was spoiled rotten.

It was now the understatement of the year.

However, it also showed just _how much _Matthew was wanted and proved Christine's previous statement true in that he was loved.

Because Christine's mother and father lived close by, they visited often and couldn't get enough of their new grandson as indicated in the subsequent photographs. Even McKay, her younger brother in graduate school, visited frequently and took to using his nephew as a chick magnet.

Despite the hilarity that ensued, Helga hoped like any mother would that her son's outings with his Lothario uncle wouldn't get him into trouble later on.

A party was thrown on September thirteenth, which was Christine's birthday, with the intent of celebrating both her _and _the newest bundle of joy in both her family, in addition to Kevin's. In the pictures that followed, Matthew was seen with his aunts, uncles, cousins, and both sets of grandparents – all of who took to showering him with even _more _presents and novelty items.

To the blonde's amusement, countless pictures of her baby wearing various hats were portrayed in the next portion of the update. From a green knit hat complete with tassels that his maternal grandfather picked up for him in Mexico whilst on business to a miniature cowboy hat from Kevin's father, each of them varied in size, shape, and color. Catherine, Christine's younger sister and the world traveler, got Matthew a burgundy colored fez from Morocco, a black beret from France, a dark brown Russian chapeau made entirely from fur, an entire package of multi-colored hand-sewn hats from South America, and some traditional African caps. Polaroids of Matthew in retro-colored beanies with pom-poms on the top were seen, along him wearing various animal hats as well.

The blonde's personal favorite was the lion hat and matching booties used for his Halloween costume, complete with Kevin and Christine dressed in khaki masquerading as lion tamers. She giggled at the sight, finding her little boy adorable as ever. The young women then let her eyes rest on the entries detailing Matthew's first Thanksgiving in Idaho with Kevin's family in Coeur d'Alene. He was seen once again in the protective arms of his relatives against various backdrops, from the mountains to the lake, and even next to some animals on the ranch his new paternal grandparents owned.

While perusing the thick journal, Helga noticed that most of the time, Matthew wore the designer clothing Rhonda gave him, but also surmised that many of Christine's friends shared similar tastes in fashion – solids, neutral colors accompanied with nautical stripes, the occasional houndstooth and plaid patterns, and the _rare _graphic tee shirt with a more grown-up print. The blonde chuckled at this particular development, as she saw that many of them shared the same sense of style as Rhonda Wellington Lloyd.

While the teenager already found Rhonda's complete focus on all things fashionable hilarious itself, what made it funnier was the next picture her eyes rested on. The photograph showed Matthew dressed in one of the many designer outfits Rhonda gave him, whereupon he held the tiger-striped stuffed chicken from Curly in his arms. Only enhancing the image further was the fact that the rest of the black-and-orange stuffed animals were in the picture as well, and Christine's comment:

"_Matthew has many stuffed animals that were given to him as gifts from our family and friends. However, he likes the ones from your friend Curly the most. The chicken is his favorite."_

Roaring with laughter as she finished reading the comment, the blonde decided to let the eclectic couple see the picture when she returned to Hillwood.

Finishing up the biannual update were pictures of the happy family on the beach, the harbor, beneath the Christmas tree, and a photograph of Matthew, dressed as a reindeer, being held by Saint Nicholas himself.

Helga smiled as she closed the leather journal, feeling more at peace than she ever had before. Although the young woman knew that her son was in the best capable hands, receiving this first update not only solidified the knowledge she possessed concerning the matter, but also helped her feel better as well. As she read Christine's comments and absorbed the photographs of her son held therein, the teenager came to an epiphany.

The blonde always knew she'd be heartbroken if Matthew chose not to meet her or include her in his later life. However, what came with the realization that she couldn't _let_ that possibility dominate her life came a whole new understanding.

Looking down at the biannual update in her hands, the young woman knew that even if Matthew showed no interest in her, or the rest of his biological family, that she at least did the right thing. The anger and bitterness was slowly leaving the teenager at long last.

Her sacrifice was not in vain.

**IV**

Upon exiting the guest bedroom and descending downstairs into the family room with Kevin and Christine's biannual update in hand, Helga instantly noticed that Leilani was there as well.

She also observed that her newfound mentor was also with her husband and three children – two daughters and a baby son.

Seeing Leilani _genuinely happy _as she smiled, laughed, and interacted with both her immediate and extended families soon brought a complete tidal wave of emotions bubbling at the surface of the young woman's heart.

Helga instantaneously grasped the belief – _the_ _hope _that she could one day have what Leilani did – _a family._

At a much later date in time, the teenager could very well have a husband (Hopefully Arnold) and children of her own. Though they could never fill the vast hole in her heart that Matthew left behind, she knew her future family would always be there.

_Yet…_

It only took _one look _at the child Leilani held in her arms for the blonde to suddenly yearn for that _certain someone_ she couldn't have with her. Helga soon found herself wanting to close that empty space in her heart that ached so terribly words could not describe it.

Wholly incapable of restraining herself as everyone, and everything else, left her view, the young woman looked at the infant again and blurted out, "_Can I hold your baby? Please?"_

Silence filled the air around her as she realized what had just happened. Throwing a hand over her crimsoned, humiliated face in an attempt to hide it, the teenager found that she couldn't bear the thought of looking at anyone in the room – much less Leilani.

Her breathing hard and sporadic, the blonde had _no idea _how she was going to get past her sudden outburst. While it was true that it came from an incessant longing and missing her son, Helga was still embarrassed by it. Reaching her mind for ways to escape the debacle, she soon felt a hand rest upon her shoulder.

Not knowing what to do, Helga flinched with nervousness, only to hear Leilani's smooth, gentle voice reassuring her, "It's okay, Helga. You can hold him."

Unearthing two trembling hands away from her face, Helga breathed outward and relaxed _somewhat, _but still felt self-conscious over the eruption of words that barreled out of her mouth.

Turning away from Whitney and her family, the young woman heard Leilani tell them, "Helga and I are going to step outside for a while. Is that okay?"

Once everyone gave their unanimous approval, the two of them walked out the front door and stepped onto the front porch. After the teenager sat down on the wooden bench to the right of the door, Leilani placed her son into Helga's empty arms and said, "This is Kaleo. He's three months old."

Looking at the child in her fold with solemn eyes while stroking his black hair, Helga felt grateful for this opportunity. She felt relieved knowing that her arms were no longer empty even though it didn't take away the pain of not having Matthew with her.

Emitting a small laugh as Kaleo smiled up at her, Leilani watched them interact with a very full heart. Sitting down beside Helga, she said, "How does it feel?"

"Better," the young woman responded, "But it's still not the same."

"I know how that feels, _Nani_," her mentor said, her voice filled with understanding as she took a seat next to Helga. "I don't think I felt like _myself _again until my husband – Kekoa and I – started our family. Once you become a mother… even if you're not a _parent, _the longing to hold a child in your arms never leaves you behind."

Helga nodded as she pondered this fact, knowing that her arms would continue to be empty for a very long time.

Noticing the journal sitting next to her on the bench, the young woman indicated to it and told her mentor, "You can look through it if you want."

The woman across from her nodded and picked up the biannual update, flipping through its pages in deep concentration. Giving a slight laugh, she said, "_Nani, _your son is beautiful. He has your eyes."

"Yeah," Helga said as she looked at the pictures of her child before looking down at Kaleo. "Matthew looks _so much _like his birthfather, though. Seeing the resemblance they shared… it was _devastating._"

"Are you still in contact with him?"

Helga nodded with reluctance and answered, "Sid and I grew up together. We live in the same neighborhood. I don't have much of a choice in that regard." She shrugged her shoulders and added, "After all the crap he pulled, I very well _could _cut him out of my life, but that wouldn't be fair to Matthew. The truth is, Sid and I will _always _be connected through him. Even though he's the _last _person I want to share that with, I know that at _some point_ we'll have to come together again and be civil for our son's sake… but I don't want that yet. He tried a while back – on our first day of school, but I wouldn't have it. I told Sid to back off and he's stayed away since then."

"You can't run away from him forever, _Nani_," Leilani told her. "The two of you will have to work things out sooner or later."

"I know," the young woman responded. "I just needed _my space _for a while… but at least he loves Matthew and feels bad about everything he's done."

The woman sitting next to her nodded and said, "He's more of a man than Clint ever will be."

Realizing that Clint was Ryan's biological father, the blonde wondered if things between he and Leilani were as bad as they were between she and Sid – or if they were _worse_.

Seeing that Helga was curious, Leilani said, "It happened just after I graduated from high school. I got a job as a waitress at a tourist restaurant part-time and was dancing on the side, hoping to make it into a professional Polynesian dancing troupe. My mother and father were _less than thrilled _and wanted me to attend college, saying that I couldn't dance forever... my body would give out eventually and that it was a rather temporary career in terms of real-world prospects. During that time, I was very rebellious and got into a lot of spats with my parents, so I didn't listen to them. Clint was here on the Big Island vacationing with his family and two best friends from Maine when we met for the first time. He was the same age as me and about to start at Yale University on a rowing scholarship. Clint was _so _handsome, with blonde hair, blue eyes, a great tan, and was very muscular. I found myself attracted to his good looks, body, and playful, boyish charm. I was also shocked – but nonetheless _thrilled _that he'd pay attention to an island girl like _me. _We hung out every day for the three weeks that he was here and I found myself falling for him. Once again, my mother and father warned me against pursuing a summer romance, but I ignored them and rationalized everything – I felt that I was strong enough… and the stupid part of me also kept the hope alive that Clint and I could make a long-distance relationship work. We did it _so many times _I lost count."

Trying to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor in shock, the teenager inquired, "What… what happened next?"

"We exchanged phone numbers and kept in touch," Leilani sighed as she shook her head. "We called each other every single day, and for a while, things were fine. It wasn't until three months later – in September – that I realized something was wrong. I'd been putting on weight despite all the exercise and dance practices I went to. At the time, I was set to audition for a dance troupe that would tour all across the islands and more coastal cities in the United States… that was my plan – to start small, and then go bigger until I was ready to dance all across Polynesia... ironically enough, I lost _all interest and passion _for it after relinquishing Ryan to his adoptive parents. Of course, I also grew up _a lot _and realized that I needed something practical and that I could actually _stay with_ in my later life."

Giving a sad smile whilst her mind dwelled on the past, the woman resumed her story and said, "People became concerned when they saw my weight gain, how tired I was, and my _occasional _morning sickness. However, I didn't do anything except buy a drugstore pregnancy test. It came back negative, so I thought there was nothing to worry about. However, I woke up the morning of my dance audition feeling really sick and light-headed… however, I was so _determined _to become a dancer that I went anyway. It wasn't until I woke up in an emergency room hospital bed with doctors surrounding my bedside and my parents looking stony faced that I was told everything… not only had I completely _bombed _my dance audition by fainting halfway through it – but I was already three months pregnant – the cheap pharmacy test I took was a false negative."

"How did Clint react?"

Leilani took a deep breath and continued, "My parents were _so __**furious **_that they got a hold of Clint's phone number and called him themselves. However, they ended up telephoning his mother and father instead, since Clint was already at Yale. It didn't do any good though, since his parents didn't believe us and didn't think we were telling the truth; but when my father threatened to sue and demand child support, they confronted Clint about it, who rebuked our claims and called me a liar. Clint's parents changed their telephone number, but we didn't let them get away _that easily_. We sent them a copy of my first ultrasound and the doctor's note confirming that my due date with the time of conception had Clint _pegged _as the father of my child. He didn't want to be involved, but his mother and father offered to send money, pay child support, and do whatever else they could as a means of keeping us quiet," the woman finished, her voice bitter. "Clint came from a very well-to-do family and his own mother and father didn't want the shame of an out of wedlock pregnancy brought upon them."

Looking at Helga, her mentor said, "I'll admit that I liked the idea at first… of keeping the baby but still having everything paid for with his father's side of the family _at least_ lending their monetary support. For a while, I rationalized that it was better than nothing, but after knowing that _I _had nothing to provide for my baby... it made me realize that he _deserved better _than what either of us could offer. I was in my eighth month of pregnancy when I was brought to that understanding, and so I had to work fast… I got _lucky_ in that I found Daniel and Karen _before_ my baby made his appearance. After that, everything was a complete blur… it all just went by so quickly."

"That's funny," the blonde mused, "I felt like the world slowed down for me."

Giving a small chuckle, Leilani finished, "Before I knew it, my son was born. His skin was dark, but his hair and eyes were lighter in color – one of the telltale signs that he was a Hapa-Haole… like Whitney's mom. He looked like Clint – got his eyes, nose, _everything else_, but he inherited my mouth. I _loved my son _the moment our eyes met. We had one week to spend together before the official hand-off. I sent Clint photographs and mailed him the adoption papers. He signed the forms and returned them almost instantly… I'll always be grateful that he didn't put up a fight and argue against the adoption itself, but it also saddened me that he didn't want to see our child in person." Taking a deep breath, Leilani added, "To this day, Clint still has _no idea _how much my world was shattered when I gave Ryan up. Even now, contact is sporadic at best. We talk occasionally, and he _does_ get photographs and updates from Daniel and Karen, but it just isn't the same."

"I'm so sorry," Helga said whilst taking in her mentor's sad tale. "That's horrible."

"It's hard," Leilani agreed, wiping her eyes whilst pulling something from her pocket, "And holidays are always tough to live through – they _still _are and _always _will be… but in the end, I did what was best for Ryan. He has a good life and I feel gratitude knowing that I was able to put away my own selfish desires and give him that."

She then indicated to the photograph in her hand, which showed her thirteen-year-old boy standing on a Floridian beach with his adoptive parents. They had reddish-brown hair, hazel eyes, and some freckles across their peach complexions. Ryan stood in the middle, and it was apparent that he inherited much of his physical appearance from his biological father. He was in the midst of puberty and just hitting a growth spurt, with tan skin and wavy hair that was the lightest shade of brown with sun kissed highlights. His eyes were green and he sported a mouth full of braces, but nonetheless looked very happy and well cared for.

Helga looked at the photograph and then at the baby she still held in her arms before saying, "I'm grateful too."

**V**

The beginnings of a vibrant splashed across the sky by the time Helga and Leilani finished their talk. Feeling enlightened, the two of them walked back into the house, with Kaleo back in his mother's arms and the young woman holding the beige journal to her chest.

Seeing that Whitney and her family were getting dinner started and knowing that her friend would like a break, the teenager held out Kevin and Christine's update to her and said, "If you want to look, it's here."

"Are you sure?" Whitney asked, taking the journal.

Helga nodded and said, "I still have one more gift to open."

"I see," Whitney winked. "We'll let you know when dinner's ready."

"Thanks," the blonde smiled as she ascended up the stairs again, with her friend wishing her a Mele Kalikimaka as she did so.

Reaching the guest bedroom again, Helga took the small package with trembling hands and opened it slowly, finding a Christmas card decorated with red and white stripes that resembled a candy cane along with a small black box.

Opening the artistically crafted letter first, she read:

_Dear Helga,_

_I hope you're enjoying your Christmas and that Matthew is doing well with his new family in California. I know things have been hard on you for a long time now and will continue to be that way for a while, but I know you can make it._

_You're a strong young woman with so much to offer the world. I know that you'll be a success with whatever path you choose to take._

_Don't be hard on yourself, Helga. Oftentimes, it takes a long time to figure out where you're going, especially after a life-changing event like the one you experienced. Take care of yourself first and soon you'll know what you need to do._

_Stay strong and always know that I love you._

_Forever yours,_

_~Arnold_

Setting the card down with a soft smile, the young woman then opened the miniature box and unearthed a gold heart locket with an intricate swirled pattern on its front. Accompanied with a long, matching halcyon chain, she unclasped the heart and found a picture cut into its shape from when she'd just given birth. The image showed her in the hospital holding Matthew with Arnold's arms around her shoulders.

Putting on the necklace, letting it hang right next to her heart and the other jeweled tribute to her beloved, Helga then walked back to the window and watched the sunset, grateful for the mellow atmosphere and the opportunity she had to _finally_ take a vacation and release some emotional baggage.

It proved that a change of scenery really did wonders for one's emotional wellbeing.

The young woman grinned upon realizing that she still had another full week left in Hawaii, with which she could still enjoy going to the beach and being away from the real world for just a little bit longer. Her smile growing wider, she was thankful for everything she learned and had reaffirmed once again, and for those who helped her get there, knowing that she could get by and overcome with a little help from her friends.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the lyrics to the song "With A Little Help From My Friends" written by John Lennon/Paul McCartney and performed by The Beatles. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	18. We Were Merely Freshmen

**Chapter XVIII: We Were Merely Freshmen**

_We've tried to wash our hands of all this  
__We never talk of our lacking relationships  
__And how we're guilt stricken sobbing with our heads on the floor  
__We fell through the ice when we tried not to slip, we'd say_

_I can't be held responsible  
__She was touching her face  
__And I won't be held responsible  
__She fell in love in the first place_

_For the life of me I cannot remember  
__What made us think that we were wise and  
__We'd never compromise  
__For the life of me I cannot believe  
__We'd ever die for these sins  
__We were merely freshmen_

~The Verve Pipe, "The Freshmen"~

* * *

**I**

Helga still felt wide-awake even after an exhausting day of flying from Hawaii back home to New York. Despite slogging through two layovers in California and Ohio, the young woman was alert and energized upon setting her pink luggage down onto the floor beneath her.

After doing so, she scrutinized her bedroom with critical blue eyes, taking note of the childish blue wallpaper decorated with bright yellow hearts, the Raggedy Anne doll sign hanging on the back of her door, and the dark pink bedspread with its hearted pattern that completely clashed against the stark near-turquoise of the four walls surrounding her.

At that moment, the teenager realized that her room looked _exactly _the same as it did since she was nine-years-old.

With new ideas brimming in her mind, Helga reached for her current pink notebook and loyal purple pen. Falling onto her bed in haste, the young woman began scribbling madly as she mapped out a new floorplan for her bedroom. She was eager to get started, for a change, and the opportunity to begin again.

The new school semester and her room renovation plans had the teenager busier than ever. However, after sacrificing her lunch hour for the sake of homework on the first day of the semester, the young woman had her father drive her to the nearest home supply store. Together, they chose the paint colors for her new room, which consisted of taupe for the walls and cream for the trim. Further, Helga had Phoebe accompany her on the subway ride to the big city, where they met Whitney and went shopping for new bedding and matching curtains. The three of them selected pale pink for the sheets, bed ruffle, pillowcases, and curtains. Meanwhile, Helga selected her bed sham in a shade titled "cherry blossom" and also purchased some throw pillows and ruffled quilt in the aforementioned color.

Afterwards, the three friends dedicated the following weekend to fixing up Helga's room. In addition, the young woman became intent on completely cleaning out her closet, desk, wardrobe, and underneath her bed before beginning the _real _work of painting the walls and trim.

The young woman did the cleaning herself, which consisted of throwing away numerous trinkets such as cheap game prizes from Cheese Festivals of yore, cheap classroom prizes, old magazines, unfinished homework, old coloring books, and pens with dried-up ink. She accumulated _seven _gigantic garbage bags from this alone and also put together four bins of clothes, old toys, and outgrown books she no longer read and planned on donating them to the local Goodwill.

Further, the young woman threw away the old Raggedy Anne door sign and also disposed of her shrine to Arnold.

She no longer needed it.

Upon getting everything organized, the only items that remained were her mementos of her time with _Sid._

_Sid._

His name _still _made the teenager's blood boil and probably would for the rest of her life despite knowing that she couldn't avoid him. While it was true that Sid came into the picture and did too little, too late… he loved their son. He regretted his prior actions and promised to make up for them.

Helga _supposed _that Sid should be commended for that. Nonetheless, the young woman could _never _forget how much he hurt her. The physical and emotional scars Sid left on the teenager would stay with her for the rest of her life.

As a result, the young woman's first impulse was to dispose of the shoebox. She reached for the battered shoebox with the intent of taking it down to the outside trash bins, but _couldn't. _

Instead, she opened it.

Inside were old Polaroids of her and Sid during uncomplicated times, ticket stubs from various movies and rooftop concerts they attended together, birthday and Christmas gifts Sid gave Helga, such as miniature quote books, stationery, and luxury pens, notes they passed each other in class, and cards with pretty pictures on the outside filled with heartfelt words Sid wrote to her.

They meant nothing.

The teenager dumped all the items back inside its nearly broken container and placed the lid back on top. She thought _briefly_ about lighting a fire and dumping the contents of the box into the flames, only to realize _once again _that she could not deny the existence of Matthew's father.

No matter how much Helga wanted to, she couldn't just _ignore _Sid's part in their child's conception or simply act as though he didn't exist. The young woman knew it was only inevitable that Matthew would one day ask Kevin and Christine about the two people who created him, brought him into the world, and ultimately surrendered him to his adoptive parents for his own betterment.

Helga could not, and _would _not, deny her son _any _opportunity when it came to learning about his biological family and searching out his origins; by default, that included Sid.

Letting a slew of hot air out of her nose, the teenager organized everything inside the dilapidated box and set it aside before grabbing her wallet and heading out to Lamoreaux's Bookstore, which sold keepsake boxes and other novelty items in addition to hardbacks, paperbacks, and other literary facets. While there, the young woman chose a more understated, less decorated box compared to the others. It was made of dark oak wood, which was sanded down, shined to perfection, and had a keyhole in the front accompanied with a black, old-fashioned key. It _was _a little pricey, but of good quality nonetheless.

Helga bought it without hesitation. Upon returning home, she organized her mementos of Sid into the keepsake box, wrapped it with several strips of bubble wrap, and then placed the key into a small plastic bag for safekeeping. Afterwards, she retrieved a cardboard package from the garage, placed the box inside, and wrote another note:

_Dear Kevin and Christine,_

_I cleaned out my room recently and found some keepsakes of my time with Sid before I became pregnant. _

_I know that you already have the box of pictures I gave you at our first initial meeting and that January might be a bit soon for me to be sending you mail. However, I feel very strongly that Matthew should have these mementos; should he ever wonder about his birthparents, I hope that the items inside this box will help him further. _

_Thank you again for everything you're doing for him. I know that he was – and is – meant to be apart of your family._

_Love, _

_Helga_

After sending the letter and package off in the mail, Helga called her friends again and asked for help in painting her room. Phoebe and Whitney instantly showed up in work clothes with plenty of paintbrushes in tow, whereupon the three of them set to work on removing the furniture form Helga's room, painting the walls, and the trim. Afterwards, the three of them washed Helga's new bedding, rearranged her bed, desk, and wardrobe before cleaning and polishing the furniture until it shined.

When they finished, the three friends stood back and took in the renovations done on Helga's room. It looked brand new, more grown-up, and had a minimalistic feel to it that still captured the young woman's personality perfectly. Helga opened the window and breathed deeply, feeling refreshed and like she had a new lease on life.

It was half past eleven by the time Phoebe and Whitney left Helga's house after deciding to order a pizza and watch some cheesy 1980's chick flicks on television.

Afterward, Helga went upstairs and planned on getting ready for bed when she noticed her father in her room, the door left slightly ajar.

Coming inside, the young woman shut the door behind her and said, "Dad? What brings you here?"

Her father jumped, somewhat startled and turned around. Exhaling slowly, he said, "Your room looks great, Helga. I – I really like it. It's _different, _but it's good."

"Thanks," Helga responded, not really sure of what to say. "What's up?"

"Not a whole lot," the older man answered while scratching his head. "I – I wanted to see how your new room looked. You've been busy since you got home after Christmas and I – and I…" He sighed before sitting down on the bed. Indicating a spot where his daughter could sit next to him, he mentioned, "I have something to tell you, Helga."

"Okay, Dad," the teenager said, sitting next to her father on the bed, "Shoot."

Her father took a deep breath and said, "I've signed up for anger management classes, Helga. I'll be attending them twice a week at the Community Center."

"Why?"

"I'm doing this because I want to be a better father," the man said, placing his arm around his daughter's shoulder. "You deserve _only the best,_ and so does your mother. I want to be the kind of husband and father I wasn't to _either _of you back then. You should've been my main priorities from the start, and I regret _all the __**years **_I wasted doing nothing but focusing on my business." After a brief pause, he finished, "If I'm going to be serious about this, it means that I have to get my temper under control, Helga. I want our home to be a place where we're comfortable being – and I want _you _to feel comfortable coming home here."

"Changing up my room really helped things."

"I want our home to be _much __**more **_than that."

Helga gave her father a small smile and said, "Thanks, Dad."

Giving his daughter a hug, the man said, "I love you, Helga. I'm doing this for you, your mother, Olga… and my grandson; but mostly for _you._" After releasing her, he added, "There's _nothing _that I want more than for you to be _happy_ and for you to feel like you're welcome here. You can _always _come home, Helga; should you ever need _anything, _this door will _always _be open."

"Thanks, Dad."

The teenager's father smiled and told her, "Just call if you need anything, okay?"

"I will."

He smiled and gave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving, allowing for his relationship with Helga to repair itself, be nurtured, and most importantly, to _grow _into something better.

**II**

Some people claim that the greatest tragedy in life is that they make better grandparents than they do mothers and fathers; it's simply _easier _and _much more __**fun **_to indulge your grandchildren and spoil them. _No one _wants to be the disciplinarian or the bad guy.

Then again, Big Bob Pataki played that role rather well throughout his life even in spite of rare occurrences where he tried to make things better.

Most of the time, the man failed.

However, his grandson changed that for him; once again, the ironies in Bob's life never ceased to exist. Aside from Helga, Matthew was what motivated Bob to improve the lives of his wife and youngest daughter, along with the relationships he had with them.

He'd begun attending anger management classes twice a week, was more helpful around the house, took Miriam out on dates every Friday night, and began spending some father-daughter time with Helga taking trips to Lamoreaux's Bookstore, feeding the ducks at the park, playing games at the pier, and going out to eat. As a result, Bob was nicer to his employees, donated to various charities, and even repaid those who participated in the failed oil investment with him.

All except one family.

Ray and Melinda Gifaldi lost the most money of all the investors in the botched monetary venture. They never quite forgave Bob Pataki for this act, seeing as how he avoided jail time by letting his slick, smooth-talking attorney do all the talking for him. Losing their savings was one thing, but _not _holding oneself accountable was something different entirely.

Bob knew this. The man also realized that his connection with the Gifaldi family now ran much deeper than failed investments and mere glances on the street. They shared a grandson, the same little boy their two children created together impulsively on a cold November night that neither of them could simply forget. While it was true that Matthew – so named by his adoptive parents – was on the other side of the country with an entirely new family of his own, the child still had Pataki _and _Gifaldi blood within him. Hell, he even _looked _like Sid despite having inherited Helga's beautiful blue eyes. Legally, the child had a new last name, but he would _never _stop being a Pataki… or a Gifaldi.

Bob sighed as he parked his car across the street from Ray and Melinda's house. It was in the seedier part of Hillwood, with cracked sidewalks, dilapidated shacks, and old homes that'd been foreclosed and vacated long ago. Despite the apparent age of the Gifaldi residence however, it was obvious that its residents put a lot of care and effort into keeping their home clean and well maintained.

The older man stepped up to their front porch and knocked tentatively before pulling a long envelope out of his leather briefcase. After a few moments of waiting, he knocked again, only to hear erratic footsteps and the unfastening of several locks and chains before the door opened, revealing Sid's father. He still looked the same, with his protruding, elongated nose and thin moustache to make up for the lack of hair on his head.

He stared up at Bob wide-eyed before demanding, _"What do you want, Pataki? If you're here to steal more money from my family and I or to 'castrate' my son, I'll call the police on you." _

"That's not why I'm here," Bob answered. "I can explain if you let me step inside."

The man inside rolled his eyes before stepping aside, allowing for Bob to enter the humble residence. The first thing the Beeper King saw upon entering was a framed picture of Sid holding Matthew, looking down on his son with a solemn facial expression. His deep brown eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, but also love.

Bob let his fingers slide gently over Matthew's visage in the photograph before saying, not for the last time, "Oh my God, he looks like _Sid._"

Though the man loved his grandson and knew that he had physical similarities to Helga as well, it was still really, _really_ hard for him to get over how much Matthew resembled his biological father.

It was because when Bob saw the single physical attribute the child inherited from his mother, all he could see was the pain Sid inflicted on her and how much it still _hurt. _As a result of that, the man _despised _that his grandson bore such a strong resemblance to the _one person_ who caused all the grief, heartache, and pain Helga went through.

Bob looked at the photograph again and thought_, "I love Matthew, but will I ever stop seeing __**Sid**__ in him?"_

"Matthew looks like your daughter too, you know," Ray commented in his thick New York accent, interrupting Bob's thought process. "He has those big blue eyes of hers."

"Thank goodness," the Beeper King muttered to himself as he allowed Ray to lead him into the kitchen.

After the two of them sat down, Ray squinted his eyes at Bob and questioned, _"Really, __**why**__ are you here? I can't imagine someone like __**you,**__ the __**great Beeper King**__ of Hillwood coming down here to these poorer parts." _

"It's actually about that investment you and your wife took part in."

"_God,"_ Ray grumbled, leaning back in his seat whilst simultaneously putting his hands over his eyes, _"I wish I'd __**never **__fallen for the get rich scam you presented. It's one of the biggest regrets of my __**life.**__" _Placing his chair at level with the floor again, he stared at the man sitting next to him and said, _"You __**do**__ realize that Melinda and I will __**never**__ be able to retire now, don't you?" _

Bob looked at Ray and said, "I know this has caused you a lot of trouble and I'm here to make up for that." Sliding the envelope to Ray, the man told him, "I'm paying back the money you put into the investment."

Not believing the words coming from the Beeper King's mouth, Ray merely shook his head as he unearthed the check from its envelope and held it up to the light, determining its validity. Upon seeing that this was not another scam, he put a trembling hand to his mouth and held the check out in front of him again.

"Oh my God," he whispered, "My family and I are _saved._" Looking to Bob again, he wondered aloud, _"Why? Why are you doing this __**now?**__" _

"Because it's the right thing to do," Bob answered with utmost honesty. "I'm trying to be a better person – for my wife, my daughters, my grandson, and my employees at the Beeper Store. I repaid everyone else who participated in the oil investment. I just had a really hard time doing it with you guys."

"Because my son knocked up your daughter."

"That," Bob shrugged, "And that's _a lot _of money you put into the investment," he added bluntly while indicating to the check.

"Yeah," Ray sighed, looking at it again. "Maybe this is why Sid was so scared to tell his mother and I about everything. He heard me swearing you 'till kingdom come after everything fell through. I mean – that doesn't _excuse _his actions, it _never _will, but… this really helps." After a pause, he kept his gaze on Bob and said, "Thank you for doing this."

"You're welcome," the older man replied, holding his hand out for Ray.

The two shook hands, whereupon Bob added, "Did you see the update from Kevin and Christine?"

Ray nodded, "I'll always be grateful that Helga chose adoption. I really feel that Matthew is where he's supposed to be. He'll grow up happy… and also _really ridiculously good looking, _too… like his dad."

Bob snorted and rolled his eyes before warning, "Be sure you give the _Pataki genes _some credit as well." He looked at Ray and said, "I know we'll never be _best friends _or anything like that, but we're kind of like family now, you know? So… if you ever need anything, or if you want to grab lunch one of these days, just give me a call, okay?"

He handed Ray his business card.

"Thanks," the other man told him. "I'll keep this in mind."

"No problem," the Beeper King said as he stood up from his seat and the table. As Ray showed him out the door, the older man turned to him and said, "Can you do one other thing for me?"

"What's that?"

"Call me _Bob_; none of this trying to avoid saying each other's name stuff, okay?"

"Okay," Ray nodded. "Thanks again for repaying my family."

**III**

"_WHITNEY!"_ Helga nearly shouted as she stomped around her friend's small, closet-sized apartment in the Big Apple, _"I can't __**believe**__ you didn't __**TELL**__ me that Sid was working at __**SLAUSEN'S!**__"_

"Sorry," Whitney grumbled as she began stuffing piles of clothes into one of her many suitcases, "I meant to tell you at Christmas, but you were so _happy _there and you _finally _got a break… I didn't want to ruin it for you."

"You know, I'd have Ol' Betsy and the Five Avengers all on your face if I didn't love you so much," Helga pouted as she took a seat on the floor. "I just can't believe you gave him _your job_ after everything he did to me."

"What was I supposed to do, Helga?" Whitney snapped. "Mr. Slausen just point blank offered him the job! Did you expect me to throw a hissy fit and say that he couldn't work there when I'd just put in my two weeks notice and my boss _really needed_ to find another waiter? Besides, it's not like I can work there anymore with this internship of mine," she finished, zipping up one of her many large suitcases.

"Yeah, that offers you some _ridiculous _perks," the blonde teenager said. "Seriously, your boss _already _has you going on a _business trip?_"

"It's just to Philadelphia to photograph some historical sites for a series he's doing," her friend responded whilst zipping her suitcase. "It's nothing big."

"Actually, it _is,_" Helga said coolly. "Have you thought about what you're doing after you graduate and once this whole internship shindig is complete?"

Helga's friend bit her lip as she stopped what she was doing. Whitney's body tensed up and the young woman knew _instantly _that something was up.

Getting up from her place on the floor, Helga stood next to Whitney and said, "You got a job, didn't you?"

Whitney nodded and said, "Do you remember when I visited that one friend of mine down in San Diego… you know, before Matthew was born?"

"Yeah," Helga said, rolling her eyes. "That was back when Arnold was still getting over his ex-girlfriend."

"She works at a think tank that just so happened to need a photojournalist for their big news reports and such," Whitney told her. "She suggested that I interview for the job… and I got it."

Helga smiled and threw her arms around Whitney before exclaiming, "Whitney, that's _great!_ There are _several _of those organizations here in the big city!"

"Helga," Whitney sighed, "This think tank… it's kind of… far away. It's not like I can just drop by and visit you whenever we both want to get together."

The young woman faltered as she released her friend from the hug and queried, "How… how far are you talking? A city or two over? Philly? D.C.?"

"It's further than that_,_" Whitney responded, her voice low. "The think tank's headquarters are in Los Angeles."

Helga froze. This wasn't happening, it just _couldn't _be happening! Just as the young woman felt like everything was _finally _coming together again, the fates had to come in, interfere, and take away yet _another person _she loved and cared about.

The young woman already lost her son and the only person she ever truly loved. How could she bear to part from _Whitney,_ who'd been one of her greatest allies during _and _after her pregnancy?

Not only that, but Whitney's job was in _California. _It was only a _two-hour drive _from Cardiff-by-the-Sea… the city where her son and adoptive parents lived.

Noticing Helga's reaction, Whitney pleaded, _"Please say something… __**anything.**__" _

"Why?" Helga wondered, as she found herself crying, "Of _all the places… _and you had offers from _EVERYWHERE _and places that were _CLOSE BY… _why _this _one?"

"You have to understand – "

"That you're just _leaving me?_" Helga demanded. "I really thought I could count on you to be here for me after the adoption, Whitney… and then when you took me to Hawaii for Christmas… this – this whole thing is just a really big shock. How – _how could __**not **__tell me?_"

"I only just accepted the offer today," Whitney admitted. "This is an _amazing _opportunity for me – even _with _all those job offers, the economy isn't doing so well right now. This job actually offers me _security _and the opportunity to expand my portfolio in ways those other jobs _can't!_"

"But you had to choose _Los Angeles?_" Helga sneered. "You're going to be _two hours _away from my _son! _I just – _why? _Do you have _any idea _how much this hurts me?"

Letting out a huge exhale, Whitney defended herself, "Helga, what it came down to was either taking _that_ job or one that I wouldn't have loved. Did you seriously expect me to join the paparazzi or go back to Hawaii_ just_ to take pictures of Hula dancers? I have a life too, Helga…. and a future I need to invest in. I'm sorry that doesn't work out for you, but it's not like – when I got that offer, it wasn't like I was actually _thinking _about going out of my way to see your son!"

"_But we're __**friends!**__" _Helga exclaimed, "And since we're on the subject, I'm going to tell you right now that if you even _think _about seeing Matthew before I do, you'll be in a serious pile of _shit, _you hear me?"

Whitney merely shook her head and looked at Helga before saying, "I'm sorry, Helga. I really am… I planned on staying here after graduating, but things change. _Life happens. _Hell, I thought you'd be the one who knew that better than anyone. Also, I'll have you know that I would _never _go out of my way to hurt you. As I said before, I'm _not_ going to look for your son. _I'm __**not **__one to interfere in the lives of my friends_… _or their offspring._"

"Yeah, but I didn't expect _this_," Helga countered as she folded her arms and turned from her friend. "I just feel like another person I care about is being taken away from me. I wanted things to be _constant _for a while, you know?"

"But Helga," Whitney said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "There _are _constants in your life already – your friends at school, Doctor Bliss, your family, Arnold… he _does _love you."

"Arnold could always dump me like he did back when we were younger."

"I don't think he will," the older of the two friends remarked. Taking a deep breath, she added, "I know you don't want to hear this, but _Sid _is one of those constants too, Helga. It's like what Leilani said back in Hawaii – you can't avoid him forever… and why should you, anyway? He's the one other link you have to Matthew."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I have to _like _him, you know? There's a difference between being friends with someone and just being _civil._"

"Don't _fake _it," Whitney advised. "Let's say that Matthew chooses to meet both you _and _Sid when he turns eighteen. The three of you reunite after all those years apart, only it turns out that you and Sid can't be in the same room with each other; and _any_ attempts the two of you make at being civilized all go to hell. Even worse, your son can tell that you're _both _faking it. How do you think he would feel about that?"

"Probably appalled," Helga said. "I'm sure Matthew will want Sid and I to get along more than anything."

"And you will… if you start building that foundation _now _and _not __**wait **_until Matthew grows up to decide that the two of you _finally _want to get along."

The teenager's mouth became a straight, thin line as she said, "You're telling me to go see Sid down at Slausen's, aren't you?"

"You can't run away from him forever."

"You're right," Helga sighed resignedly. "I should meet up with Sid, shouldn't I?"

Whitney nodded and said, "He goes on his dinner break in a few minutes."

"How do _you_ know?"

"He took over all of my shifts, remember? I could recite his work schedule in my _sleep._"

The blonde laughed and said, pulling her friend into a hug, "I'll really miss you, Whitney."

"I'll miss you too, Pataki."

It was a long time before the two friends finally parted. Helga hesitated before leaving and said, "Thanks for everything you've done for me, Whitney. I – I'm really sorry about my earlier outburst… and I'm also sorry that I misjudged you and accused you of looking for my son in California. That – that was out of line."

"It's okay," her friend promised. "Everything's fine. You take care."

Helga nodded and stepped out the door. When Whitney closed it, she fell onto her bed amidst her suitcase and unpacked clothes, unable to do anything but think. She was exhausted, had an internship that was running her into the ground, and a business trip to pack for. However, her thoughts were on her friend Helga, and the crazy direction life took her in – a hard pregnancy, labor, and delivery, the father stepping into the picture unexpectedly (and much too late), giving the child up for adoption, improving relations with her family, and having her true love thrust from her just as he'd reentered her life.

Whitney's life was also the same way, with taking a full course load at university, being away from her family, taking Helga under her wing, her internship, and new job. There was a whole world of adventure waiting for Whitney – and also for Helga, and their worlds were also turning upside down entirely.

Upon sitting up and seeing that her apartment was now a complete mess, Whitney set out to clean it, only to find that she couldn't concentrate.

Rather, she found some workout clothes bundled up on her floor, put her iPod headphones in, and set off on a long run.

It was cold and there was still snow upon the ground, but there were times when blizzards were better than Hawaiian sunshine.

At least they didn't sugarcoat anything.

And as she ran, she wondered, _"What would happen if I ran into Kevin, Christine, and Matthew by chance? Would Helga ever forgive me for it?" _

All Whitney could think about was the complete shit storm that would occur if it happened. But Los Angeles was a big city. What were the odds, anyway?

She liked to think that they weren't very high.

Meanwhile, Helga rode the subway back to Hillwood and walked down to Slausen's, with Whitney's words haunting her the entire way there:

"_You can't run away from him forever." _

**IV**

"So that's what I'm doing," Sid announced as he stood from the purple couch in Doctor Bliss' office and faced her, "I have a full-time job at Slausen's, my grades last semester were straight A's, and I'm keeping up my appointments with you. He took a deep breath and added, "I really hope this will all help me out in the long run."

"It _will, _Sid," Doctor Bliss assured him upon standing up from her seat across from him. "You've already come such a long way since our first meeting in September. You're taking positives steps in both improving _your _life and showing your son that you _want _to become a better person. Best of all, you're actually _doing everything you can _in order to make it come true."

"That means a lot from you," the young man admitted to his psychologist, "Considering my history with Helga and all."

"Sid, I don't judge you or any of my other patients," the kind psychiatric doctor informed him. "If I did, then I wouldn't be doing my job."

The teenager grinned just slightly and said, "I hope Helga thinks the same way you do…" His voice faltered as he asked, "Do you think she'll ever want to speak with me again?"

"There will come a point when the two of you will come together – not as lovers and not as friends – but as two people with a son whom they both love very much," Doctor Bliss said. "However, it might be a while before that happens, Sid. At this point, all you can do is give Helga some more time to sort through everything; but if she's ready sooner than you expect, let her tell her story, Sid. Don't interrupt and don't judge her. If permitted, make an agreement to be civil with her and _at least _on speaking terms for the sake of your son."

"Okay," Sid nodded dutifully. "That… that sounds about right." He turned around and faced the clock before saying, "I should get to work."

Doctor Bliss gave her client a smile and said, "I'll see you at the same time on Monday, Sid."

"Thanks," Sid told her. "I really appreciate everything you're doing for me… and also for Helga."

The compassionate woman nodded as the young man waved goodbye before shutting the door behind him and exiting the Hillwood Medical Center. Afterward, Sid took the bus over to Slausen's, where he was scheduled to work the dinner shift. Upon entering the workplace, he saw numerous customers already inside the large, comfortable booths chatting with Mr. Slausen and some of the other employees as they prepared for the dinner shift ahead while many more waited to be seated.

Knowing that he was in for a busy night, the young man clocked in and quickly began doing his part in getting ready for the long night ahead, filling orders, and waiting food at various tables. Due to the numerous customers at the restaurant, Sid had to be on top of things. In addition, he was also efficient at getting his orders filled and ensuring that the diners received their meals in a timely manner.

Before he knew it, the time came for his hour-long dinner break. After a busy three and a half hours consisting of wiping down tables, filling up the various condiments, taking people's orders, serving them their meals, delivering bills and to-go boxes, and receiving some decently sized tips, Sid was ready to unwind for a little bit. He gave Mr. Slausen a quick wave as he clocked out, put on his coat, and headed for the exit, intent on grabbing some dinner and dessert coffee Antonio's Pizzeria.

However, the teenager saw _her _before he even reached the front door.

Helga sat in the far right booth next to the window, her newly tanned complexion still tinged red from the cold outside. Her long, caramel locks of hair, recently highlighted by the Hawaiian sun, were freed from the standard two pigtails she wore and fell in beautiful, cascading waves down her back. The young woman's blue eyes seemed alert, albeit a _little bit_ anxious as she chewed on her bottom lip with a hint of nervousness. She wore a long sleeved, pink thermal shirt with her omnipresent ribbon tied on the lower half of her right arm, an old pair of faded blue jeans, and ratty, teal Converse sneakers. Sid couldn't help but notice her significantly enlarged chest. When the young man looked at Helga further, he noticed the rather enhanced curves on her body and saw that she still carried around a fair amount of baby weight all over.

Yet despite her obvious apprehension, the young woman seemed better. She appeared calmer. Despite the extra pregnancy weight that still lingered on her body, she looked the best she ever had in a long while. It quickly became evident to Sid that spending Christmas in Hawaii really did wonders for Helga by allowing for her to relax and take a much-needed break from the craziness of the real world.

Not quite knowing what to say, Sid looked at Helga and told her, "Um… I just went on break, but I can have some of the guys prepare something for you if you're hungry."

"No thanks," the young woman replied. After a brief pause, she queried, "How long have you been at work?"

"Since five," Sid answered. "I'm on break for an hour and then I'm here until two in the morning to serve the late-night customers and for clean-up crew as well."

"Brutal," Helga nodded. "How long is your dinner break? An hour?"

"Yeah," Sid answered. "I was going to head down to Antonio's for some Italian food… but if you want to stay here, that's fine."

The blonde commented, "I'd rather not go out in the cold again for a while, if that's okay."

Sid pursed his lips before sitting in the booth across from Helga. Pulling out his cell phone, he added, "I'm going to have them deliver my food here to the restaurant. I'm _starving _and didn't have time to eat before my shift."

Helga sighed and leaned back into her seat as Sid placed an order for a small pepperoni pizza and dessert coffee to be delivered at their earliest convenience.

Afterward, Sid looked at Helga, and not knowing what to say, instead blurted out, "You look good, Helga… I mean, not that you ever looked ugly, but – "

"Thanks, Sid," she told him. "This is going to be awkward, isn't it?"

The young man let out some nervous laughter and responded, "God, what has become of us, Helga? We went from being _best friends _to not even being able to have a conversation with each other…" His voice lingered off into another uncomfortable silence as he realized, _"You got her __**PREGNANT, **__you __**MORON. **__You __**ABANDONED **__her when she needed you __**THE MOST**__. You __**HUMILIATED **__her in __**PUBLIC. **__You have a __**CHILD **__with her – and you'll be __**DAMN LUCKY**__ if he chooses to let you into his life." _

"I think we _both _know the answer to that question, Nose Boy," Helga said dryly. "God, I am _so _grateful Matthew didn't inherit your gigantic penis schnoz."

"Me too," Sid agreed, his voice carrying a bit of a frustrated edge to it. "I'm pretty sure I lost my appetite over you saying that though, so thanks for that, Helga."

"You've done far worse," Helga remarked nonchalantly whilst stretching her arms skyward. "Did you know that I gained _seventy pounds_ while I was pregnant?"

"It doesn't look like it to me," the young man told her. "I mean – when you were pregnant… I never thought that at all."

Rolling her eyes, Helga continued, "I seriously could _not_ control my appetite, especially with the morning sickness… more like _all day sickness _if you ask me._ Everything _made me sick except for _pure junk food… _and vegetables. But who likes eating those anyway? I'd eat, throw up, get hungry again, eat some more, and throw up again; wash, rinse, repeat, you know? It was a fucking vicious cycle."

Shaking his head, Sid confessed, "I can't imagine, Helga."

"Meat was the _worst,_" she informed Sid. "I got away with eating it up until my second trimester and then it just made me barf all the time. I had to give up my favorite spicy hot wings because Matthew would get ticked off whenever I ate them… seriously, that kid better become a vegetarian."

Sid let out a small laugh as Helga stared at him pointedly and said, "There was one incident… God, it was_ so_ embarrassing. It happened right after finding out the baby's sex – I learned that I was having a boy that day and my dad decided to 'celebrate' by dragging me to the supermarket and buying a bunch of steaks to put on the grill. I was tired, I had homework, and I was already _fucking huge _at that point. One crotchety old lady at the store told me I looked like I was due at any given moment even though I was only _five months pregnant _at the time."

"What happened?"

"The moment the smell of processed meat hit my nose, I hightailed it to the nearest trashcan and upchucked for a good ten minutes with my dad yelling at me in the background while everyone else just… _stared_."

Sid gritted his teeth upon hearing the story. Big Bob Pataki had always been a total ass only out for his own gain. The fact that he would stand by and yell at his daughter when she was physically ill made the young man clench his fists in anger.

Trying to get control of himself, he said, "I'm sorry, Helga… your dad was always – kind of a jerk."

"He's working on being better," she told him. "I think he had a bit of an epiphany after meeting Kevin and Christine… and realized that I was intent on going through the adoption. Since then, my dad's been _there for me. _He's fixing his relationship with my mom and is going to anger management classes twice a week. My dad isn't perfect, but… at least he's _trying._"

"_So am I," _Sid thought to himself. Instead of saying those words out loud, he remarked, "I guess it's your turn to carry on, then… even though I don't really know why you're telling me all this."

"It's because you have _no fucking clue, _Sid," Helga spat. "You really have _no idea _what it's like to but your _body_ and _your life_ on the line _for the wellbeing of another._ You don't know what I put up with when I was pregnant and how difficult it really was. Do you know how it feels to lose complete control of your _body? _To feel like you _can't hold it together any longer? _Or how it feels to not even _know_ what you're saying most of the time since your hormones are so out of whack? What about blowing through your money within weeks – sometimes _days _– because your stomach _never stops growing _and the shirt and pair of jeans _you just bought _don't _fit _anymore? Have you ever experienced that?"

"I – I can't say that I have," the young man said while looking down. He felt ashamed of himself and really wished he'd been there to help the mother of his child through everything – buying her favorite sweets that helped satisfy her cravings, holding her hair back while she threw up, offering moral support while Bob belittled her, lending a listening ear when she needed it, helping to pay for some of the expenses she incurred, feeling their son move around within the confines of her enlarged womb… Sid knew that he really screwed up and that he couldn't change time or reverse any of his past actions.

And now he was paying for it every second of his miserable life.

Letting out some air, the young woman eyed him and said, "Have you ever had one of your teachers make a cautionary tale out of you in front of the class? No? Well, the day after Wolfgang told everyone about my pregnancy, I figured it was pointless to hide it, so I stopped wearing those gigantic shirts. Hell, everyone knew what was under there at that point, so they may as well see it, you know? It turned out to be nothing more than an opportunity for my Health Education teacher to have me stand up in front of the class and tell the rest of his students, _'This is why you remain abstinent!' _He also had us watch that video of a live birth and told me I should take notes for later, the fucking bastard. Ironically enough, I got the highest grade in that class."

"I hope that dick got fired," Sid said as his dinner order came in. He paid the deliveryman and turned back to Helga, wondering what else she had to say.

"He did," Helga told him. "I told Doctor Bliss what happened and she went to the district superintendent."

"_Good." _

The young woman rolled her eyes yet again and said, "You know, the worst of it wasn't so much that… or the fact that you walked out on me, threw a gigantic bowl of punch all over me, and smeared a cake all over my clothes. Hell, what Bob did at first was pretty bad – and the labor and delivery. God, I had to do it without drugs and there were a bunch of complications. That's why it's taking so long for my body to recover."

"Doctor Warner told me everything about the day Matthew was born," Sid told her. "You're right… I – I really have no idea how hard it was."

"_None of that_ compares to how I felt when our son was _constantly _kicking me in the stomach… in the ribs… pushing down on my bladder… doing _everything _he could to make his presence known to me." Taking a deep, shaky breath, Helga added, "And while all that was happening, I actually got to _know _him – I knew what his favorite foods were, the music he liked, and that he enjoyed it when I read Anthony Trollope and Dave Eggers out loud to him. I loved him and yet I _knew _that I couldn't raise him without screwing up his life! Our son was a _constant reminder _of that!"

Her voice cracked as she said, "Giving Matthew up for adoption was the right thing to do, but it was also the _hardest. _There's a hole in my heart that will _never go away_, Sid. Everyday, I have to look the mirror and see the aftermath of a full term pregnancy but no baby to show for it. My body will never _look _or _be the same _again. Shopping for clothes is the _worst _because it does nothing but remind me of how much weight I've gained. I'll _never _be able to fit into any of my old clothes again because of the curves – and then there's the breast milk. _God. _As if I didn't need anymore reminders, it comes along and brings to mind the fact that I can't _do anything _with it and that I don't have a baby to nurse!"

Helga wiped the tears from her eyes as Sid pushed his dinner away from sight, finding that his appetite was completely nonexistent. He really had no clue until that night just _how much_ Helga really sacrificed for the child they may – or may not – ever see again. At that moment, his losses seemed completely minimal compared to hers. _He_ wasn't the one who gave up control of his body. _He _wasn't the one who had to bear the physical scars of a full-term pregnancy. _He _wasn't the one who experienced the worst kind of agony in helping his son enter the world. _He _wasn't the one who'd been abandoned, humiliated, and ridiculed.

Sid got off really easy.

And it made him feel like_ shit. _

"Helga, I – " Sid paused, realizing that apologizing to her was completely pointless. Rather, he told the young woman, "I know that I wasn't there for you back then… and that is something I will regret _every single day for as long as I live. _I can't reverse time or act like we're friends again, because I know that will never be the case. However, we're both connected through Matthew, even though I know you wish that wasn't the case."

Seeing that blonde's face remained emotionless, Sid pressed on, "Even though I've been a _huge_ fuck-up, I promise you that I will become a better person than what I once was by keeping my job here at Slausen's, doing better in school, and going to therapy. I promise you that I will grow up and be someone Matthew can be proud of. I promise not to force myself on him and I promise that I'll always be civil with you… and that if you _ever _need me for whatever the reason – or if you just want to get together and talk about our son on his birthday or whenever we get the updates from Kevin and Christine… I promise you that I'll be there."

The young woman nodded and said coolly, "I'm all for getting along with you and being civil, Sid. But I'm doing it _for __**Matthew. **_I'm _not_ doing it for _you._"

"Fair enough."

"You know that the _last _thing our son needs to see is his birthparents hating each other," Helga remarked. "It's not like we can decide to start getting along right before he turns eighteen. We have to put on a united front and start being civil to each other _now._"

"I'm with you there," Sid concurred. "So, when should we meet up? Every year on Matthew's birthday?"

Helga nodded, "That and also every June and December – because that's when the bi-annual updates from Kevin and Christine come in. We can meet for lunch at Voltaire's – that little French eatery down in Arouet County. You'll pay too, Bucko."

"Sounds like a plan," the young man said. "What do we do until then? Just pretend that the other person doesn't exist? Like, if we pass by each other in the hallways at school, do we just act like we didn't see each other?"

"No," Helga snorted. "We'll still acknowledge each other's presence – say hi to each other in the hallways type of thing. But don't expect us to be best friends forever just because we have a kid together."

"_I'm not,"_ Sid countered, his voice somewhat defensive. He looked down at his watch and noticed that his dinner break was almost up and he hadn't even eaten yet. Taking the packaged food next to him, the young man held it out to Helga and said, "Take this home with you. I'm not hungry."

"Thanks," she said, standing there and staring down at the pizza and coffee before looking up again. "There's one more thing I want to ask you, Sid."

"What's that?"

"Did you ever think about fighting the adoption? Or about arguing against signing the papers? I noticed that you were a bit hesitant to sign them on the day of the handoff."

"No, Helga," Sid answered, "It never crossed my mind to ruin the best laid plans you laid out for our son. I couldn't do that to you after all the other shit I put you through… and I always planned on signing the papers. I was just scared because I knew that it'd be permanent and that I wouldn't be able to change it afterwards." He stared into the young woman's blue eyes and asked, "Do you want to know the _real _reason why I didn't argue against the adoption? _It's because I love Matthew and I don't want to ruin his life._"

The young woman stood there for a long while, not quite sure of what to say. Sid wasn't sure if he pissed her off, if what he said hurt her feelings for some reason, or if she found him insincere despite being far from it.

He really meant what he said.

The teenager held his breath as she looked up at stared at him. However, instead of pummeling him to the ground, she merely told him, "Thank you, Sid."

Then, she left.

After the fact, Sid stood there, completely shocked and not knowing how to react. Helga hadn't screamed or hit him, like he had expected. She was firm with him at times and even a little cross, but who could blame her, really?

The truth, Sid realized, was that Helga was _tired. _She was _beyond exhausted. _The young woman lost all the people who were important to her in a such a short period time that she simply couldn't take it anymore. Fighting with others – even with those who hurt her – simply _wasn't worth it. _

The truth was that Sid wasn't worth anything to Helga anymore.

He sighed and got back to work, clocking in and waiting more tables throughout the night. When the ice cream parlor closed at the midnight, the young man got to work on cleaning the floors, tables, food counter, and the bathrooms before finally getting his tip money together, clocking out, locking up, and exiting the restaurant. The young man wondered why he didn't just_ sleep_ there, since he was working the breakfast shift from six in the morning until noon.

However, this was something he needed to get done.

After putting together his Christmas money and tips from Slausen's, Sid had just enough for Arnold to buy himself a new stereo, which would replace the one the formerly irresponsible teenager broke on the Fourth of July. He approached the stoop of the Sunset Arms and stuffed a large wad of cash inside before licking it closed.

Sid then took out a sharpie and wrote his apology on the front:

_Dear Arnold,_

_I'm sorry about everything. Please use the money enclosed to buy a new stereo. It should be enough to replace the one I broke a while back. __**I know I've always been bad, and now I will be good.**_

_From,_

_Sid_

The teenager then slid the envelope through the door flap of the boardinghouse and walked away, where he planned on getting some sleep before showering and heading back into work again.

The young man also realized that he just quoted Dave Eggers in his apology letter to Arnold.

And that was something Sid thought he would _never _do.

**V**

Helga stepped off the bus and into the January cold once more, choosing to take the long way home instead of her typical, significantly shorter walking routine back.

She liked walking by Arnold's house during the day and thinking of the good times and happy memories shared at the Sunset Arms. They reflected a simpler, less complicated time that the young woman could never get back, but was still grateful that she remembered them nonetheless.

With bittersweetness, the young woman recalled how much Arnold and his family helped her while she was pregnant. Not only did they lend their support, but they didn't look down on her. They weren't judgmental or condescending of the teenager, and that meant more than words could ever convey. At the time, she appreciated that, _especially_ coming from Miles and Stella, since they were like the parents she could rely on back when she couldn't trust her own.

The young woman knew she could always rely on Arnold for help no matter what. She was eternally grateful to him for being there for both her and her son, and missed him more than words could convey.

Despite those feelings, Helga loved reading about his travels across Europe with his mother and father. The teenager enjoyed learning about all the historical sites and monuments Arnold saw and the various souvenirs he sent her, such as Belgian chocolate, a copy of _Paul et Virginie _from Shakespeare and Company, Irish crystals, as music memorabilia of The Kinks from his travels in England.

In addition, Helga also took to wearing the locket he gave her for Christmas like a second skin.

She hadn't taken it off since then and wore it right next to the gold locket from her childhood bearing his likeness.

However, there were times when the teenager became unsure.

Though Helga would never stop loving Arnold, she wondered if he had started to feel differently towards her. His letters began tapering off just after New Year's and their correspondences were less frequent as a result. She didn't want to consume herself with worry over the situation, but couldn't help but wonder if Arnold became tired of her and didn't want to be saddled with a girl like _her, _especially since the handsome young man could have _anyone _he wanted.

So why did he stand by Helga during her pregnancy? Why was he there for the young woman as she brought her son into the world? Why did he love Matthew even though he wasn't biologically his own?

That was the kind of person Arnold _was. _

Helga sighed, recalling the days after she confessed her love to Arnold on the top of the FTi Building and its near contentious aftermath. During that time, she and Arnold were manipulative to each other and did everything they could to push the other person's buttons.

In the end, Helga acted that way because she felt like Arnold wasn't giving her any answers pertaining to how she felt. At the time, the teenager felt as though he was leading her on, only for everything to resolve itself when the two of them found his parents in the jungles of San Lorenzo.

Helga wondered if Arnold only liked her back _because _she helped him rescue his mother and father. If she hadn't, would he have kissed her? Would he have helped the blonde out during her pregnancy?

She exhaled, wondering whether or not to turn around and walk back home when _Arnold, _of all people, came into her view.

Not quite believing the vision in front of her gaze, the young woman ran toward the boardinghouse, only to find Arnold sitting on its steps, with a brightly woven blanket from Mexico covering a square package behind him. The young man's complexion was warm, tan, and inviting, making his striking green eyes stand out even more. His blond hair was sun kissed but still spiky, and his ever-present blue hat still sat on his adorable football shaped head. Arnold seemed taller to Helga and his legs appeared longer. He wore a black pea coat, faded jeans, and red old school Vans upon his feet.

Arnold took a deep breath and released it into the air, whereupon it became visible in the New York cold. Giving her a smile, he said, "Hey, Helga."

"Arnold… you're – you're _back!_" Helga cried out, completely shocked. "I thought you wouldn't be back until summertime!"

"That was the plan," the young man said, offering a spot for Helga to sit next to him, "But I couldn't stay there – not when my heart was someplace else."

"What – what do you mean?"

Arnold grabbed Helga's hands and enveloped them in his own. Staring at her intently, he said, _"I missed you, Helga. I came back for you."_

The young woman's mouth fell open in shock. Why her? She wasn't pretty, or popular, or the ideal girl by any stretch of the imagination. The teenager was broken both physically and emotionally. Helga felt like a cow most of the time and simply carried around too much emotional baggage. The teenager lost so much in the span of a few short months that even _if _her heart opened itself to Arnold again, she wouldn't be able to take it if he left her.

Pulling her close to him, Arnold told her, "I know you might not believe me, Helga – but you mean more to me than you'll ever know. _I __**love **__you, Helga. I'm __**in love **__with you. _You have _so many __**amazing **_qualities that I admire in you. You're strong and you care deeply about the ones you love… and you'd go through _Hell _for them to be happy and well cared for. You speak your mind and you don't care what people think of you. You're better than that – you're more interested in bettering yourself and improving your talents versus getting caught up in petty gossip and the drama of those around you. Not only that, but you're _beautiful, _Helga – both inside and out."

"That's kind of you, Arnold… but I'm not anything special. In fact, I'm _far_ from pretty. I'm still carrying a bunch of baby weight around."

Without skipping a beat, the young man brushed off Helga's comment and said, "Your blonde hair falls in waves down your back. I love brushing my fingers through it like you wouldn't believe and your eyes are the most stunning shade of blue I've ever seen – full of life, wonderment, and intelligence. I love your curves, I love the way you smile whenever you read a favorite book of yours or write in your journal. I love the way your eyes light up when we're together."

He blushed, his cheeks turning red and said, "I love everything about you, Helga. I really do. I don't care that you're carrying around a bunch of pregnancy weight. I'll still love you even if you never lose it."

"Really?"

"Really," Arnold said. "Now that I'm back in Hillwood, I'd _really _like to be your boyfriend – that is, if you say yes."

Finding her mouth stretching out into a mile wide grin, the young woman let out a slew of joyous laughter and threw her arms around her beloved football head. Hugging him close to her, she said, "I would love to be your girlfriend, Arnold. I've missed you so much."

Arnold then pulled away from her and brought the covered package in between them. Giving Helga a smile, the young man said, "I really wanted your gift – the one I planned on buying you upon returning home – to be one that you'd be able to treasure and keep for a long time… something that you could make good memories of and remember forever. I really had no idea what that would be, but then I realized something."

"What's that?"

"You need something that will keep you busy," Arnold said. "You need something that will keep you entertained, occupied, and that won't let your mind wander too much. Plus, it'll also allow for your motherly instincts to be put to good use."

The young woman nodded, wondering what was inside the box. He pulled off the blanket and said while beckoning to Helga, "Look inside."

She peered inside the box and found herself smiling down at the two kittens inside.

Arnold looked up and grinned, "Mr. Hyunh found them abandoned behind the dumpsters next to El Patio. They're underfed, so you'll have to bottle feed the two of them for a while and give them some medication twice a day. However, we took them to the animal shelter for check-ups, flea treatments, and some shots. The veterinarian says they'll be fine and caught up with some love and attention in no time."

Helga chuckled as she watched them play with the toys inside the box. Turning to Arnold, she said, "Tell me more about them."

He reached into the box and took out the first kitten. Its fur was an extremely light golden color that looked white from some angles and had wide, inquisitive green eyes. The kitten's fur was somewhat long and its tail was rather fluffy.

Handing the kitten to Helga, Arnold said, "This is Mickey. He's a total sweetheart with a mellow personality. He loves cuddling with whoever holds him."

Helga looked down as Mickey curled into the crook of her arm and closed his eyes with content while she scratched his forehead gently. She looked at her boyfriend and asked, "What's the other kitten like?"

"I'm glad you asked," Arnold smiled while lifting the second one from the box. "This one's name is Betty," he told the young woman. "She has a really sweet personality like Mickey but is also really curious."

Helga watched as Betty climbed across Arnold's lap with her little tail high in the air, its crooked end swaying back and forth while she moved across Arnold's knees. In addition, Helga noticed that she was colored dark grey with black stripes, but had bright blue eyes and a white chin, along with her stomach being the same color. Betty's hair was shorter than Mickey's, but was still longish, especially around her cute little face.

"Oh Arnold," Helga said, "I – I really don't know what to say… except that this is one of the sweetest things you've ever done for me. I – I've always loved you and I'll never stop, but I never would've expected you to do the same for me."

"I will always love you, Helga," Arnold reassured the young woman, taking her hand. "You're _everything _for me and the kind of person I've always dreamed of. I want to be there for you and I want to help you whenever you're having a rough time. I love you even during the worst of times, no matter what happens. I don't _ever _want you to doubt that."

"I won't," Helga promised. "I'll never do that."

And at that moment, Arnold leaned in, letting his hand sit gently atop her left shoulder, and let his lips graze her own in a gentle, but nevertheless affirming, kiss.

* * *

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the lyrics to the song "The Freshmen" written by Brian Vander Ark and performed by The Verve Pipe. I also do not own the Dave Eggers quote used in the chapter or the book (The Wild Things, also written by Dave Eggers) where it originally appeared. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.


	19. Summertime

**Chapter XIX: Summertime**

_One of these mornings_  
_You're going to rise up singing_  
_Then you'll spread your wings_  
_And you'll take the sky_

~Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong, "Summertime"~

* * *

**I**

**Eighteen Years Later**

Helga Pataki Shortman sat at the kitchen table staring nervously into the cup of chamomile tea her mother-in-law Stella made for her. The older woman made the drink in an attempt to soothe Helga's nerves, but she hadn't even touched it. The blonde stood from her seat and found herself in front of the new entryway mirror she recently had installed.

As Helga smoothed out her navy blue pencil skirt, straightened her white blouse, and tightened the pink scarf around her neck, she wondered if she looked too formal; or perhaps the woman's look was much too casual for the momentous occasion ahead. Helga wondered if she needed to change her outfit yet _again, _having already gone through three before deciding on this one.

She combed her fingers through her long flaxen waves and looked at her reflection. She wore simple pearl lobes in her ears and a light dusting of make-up that enhanced her natural beauty but wasn't caked on.

First impressions were _everything _and Helga couldn't afford to screw this up.

After taking a deep breath, she felt her husband's arms envelope her from behind. Kissing her on the cheek, Arnold said, "Try to relax, Helga. You don't have _anything_ to worry about."

"What if he hates me?"

"He's _not,_" Arnold reassured her. "He's going to _love _you."

"You promise?"

"I do," he answered, turning his wife around and kissing her on the forehead. "He's been looking forward to this just as much as you have."

Helga nodded and couldn't help but smile as she and Arnold's four children bounded down the stairs excitedly with their grandparents in tow.

The first one down the stairs was their oldest, Shaun Miles Shortman. He inherited his mother's looks and stubborn personality to match, though it appeared that genetics decided to do entirely away with the Pataki unibrow. He was born in the early hours of December thirteenth, just hours after Helga completed the fifth semester of her PhD program.

As the woman reached out and hugged her seven-year-old boy, she remembered not only the excitement, but also the fears and anxiousness she felt upon learning that she was expecting again.

At the time, Helga was twenty-six-years old and pursuing a Doctorate degree in Pediatric Psychology at Hillwood State University. The feat was all consuming and left her with very little free time.

Meanwhile, Arnold put his Bachelors and Masters degrees in Elementary Education and Nonprofit Management to good use by using his schooling to support them both. He worked full time at 826 NYC, a non-profit organization founded by their favorite author dedicated to helping students with their writing and other educational pursuits through creative outlets. In fact, Arnold loved his job so much that he still remained there to this day in addition to working with the Teacher Advocacy Group in the city.

Arnold was _thrilled _when he learned that Helga was pregnant. Though the excitement was contagious, she was also completely terrified. The woman wondered how she could finish her Doctorate in a reasonable amount of time _and_ be a good mother. She feared making all the same mistakes her _own _had made; and even though Miriam shaped up and came a long way since her days of alcoholism and emotional neglect, it still took a long time for her to take responsibility and become the mother she needed to be.

Helga was also _scared_. She wondered if it was even remotely _possible _for her to love _this child _as much as she loved _Matthew_.

It'd been over ten years since Helga relinquished her son to his adoptive parents. In that time, the woman had good days as well as bad ones. During the time in which the adoption was still fresh, her bad days outnumbered the good ones greatly. The day Matthew's adoption was finalized, his first birthday, and the antecedent anniversary of the official hand-off left her a complete emotional wreck.

Helga just wanted to be left alone on those days and everyone knew to keep their distance. Sid was the same way. The two planned to meet for lunch at their usual spot on Matthew's birthday that year, but found that neither of them could function without falling apart entirely.

Helga grew accustomed to having her heart walking around outside her body on a daily basis. As she pursued her education, married Arnold, and made what little time she could to be with her friends and have fun, the number of bad days she had soon decreased. Despite the painful anniversaries the constant, longing ache she felt without her son in her life, and desire she felt to reunite with Matthew, the woman was happy. She truly loved life.

Upon learning of her pregnancy though, she didn't think her heart could expand any larger than it already had.

Moreover, the woman wondered if she would love the child in her womb more than she loved Matthew, since this particular baby shared the same genetic make-up of the person she had always actually _loved._

She ultimately feared her inability to love both of her children.

Through it all, Arnold remained supportive of Helga. He accompanied his wife to all her appointments, found himself doing whatever he could to satisfy her insane cravings (even if it meant going to a bodega all the way in Brooklyn just to pick up her favorite Swedish ginger snaps), giving her back and foot massages, and setting up the perfect nursery for their son.

The woman admitted to feeling relief upon learning that she and Arnold were expecting a boy because it helped lessen the grief of being away from her first.

To Helga's great relief, both her pregnancy and delivery with Shaun were _much _easier and significantly _less _traumatizing than her rather painful experience at the age of fifteen. After a relatively stress-free experience as one could have whilst giving birth, Arnold brought Shaun over to Helga with a smile stretched so widely across his face that his jaw muscles must have ached. He placed their baby in Helga's arms and at that moment, she found her heart – and her love – multiplying more than tenfold.

Releasing Shaun from her arms, the little boy asked, "When do I get to meet my big brother?"

"You'll get to meet him after you go to the zoo with Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa, and your siblings," Helga told him whilst running a hand through his hair.

"_Cool!"_ Shaun exclaimed, his smile revealing two missing front teeth. "I've _always _wanted a big brother! Does he want to meet me too?"

Helga nodded as Shaun ran over to his younger sisters Estelle Irene and Eleanor Cecile, who wore impatient looks on their faces. The two of them were waiting impatiently to leave for the zoo and didn't understand what the hold-up was about.

The twins were born in the March during Helga's final semester of her PhD program, taking her by surprise once again with their unexpected arrival. They were identical, sharing their physical appearance with their late great-grandmother Gertie and Grandma Stella. Their features were angular and pointed like the former, but they shared the latter's coloring, consisting of warm tan complexions, large and wonderous green eyes, and dark brown hair. The two of them were constantly joined at the hip and did everything together, ranging from swimming lessons to basketball. They also enjoyed the same school subjects and performed the best in math and science. Estelle and Eleanor shared a bedroom and were often found hidden underneath elaborate blanket forts speaking their own sister/twin language well into the late hours of the evening.

Eleanor turned to Arnold and queried, "Daddy, can we go to the zoo now?"

Arnold bent down to his daughters' level and placed an arm around each of them before saying, "Yes girls, we'll get to the zoo soon. I just have to talk to your mom and Grandma and Grandpa about a few things first, okay?"

"You promise, Daddy?" the older twin asked.

"I promise," Arnold said, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek. "Why don't you and Shaun play out front for a little bit before we head off?"

The three kids nodded and ran outside, shutting the large green door behind them. Helga then held out her arms towards Stella, who placed her fourth and youngest child in her arms.

Anthony Philip Shortman was the one baby Arnold and Helga actually _planned_. After the twins were born, the two of them decided to wait for some time before adding another son or daughter into the mix. For a while, the couple felt that their family was complete, yet often toyed with the idea of having one last child to make their family whole.

When Arnold's beloved grandparents died within two days of each other, Helga suggested that they begin trying immediately. Nine months later, Anthony was born on a warm June day with his father's football-shaped head, spiky blond hair, and his mother's shining blue eyes. He was a precocious two-year-old and well behaved compared to his siblings at that age. He was his father in every sense of the word.

Giving Anthony a kiss, Helga asked, "Are you going to be good for Daddy today?"

Anthony nodded as she handed him over to his father, who held him in one arm and placed his other hand on his wife's shoulder as an act of comfort. He said, "We'll be back around four. Does that sound okay?"

Helga nodded, but nonetheless admonished him, "Don't tire the kids out _too much, _Arnold. They've _really _been looking forward to this… _especially _Shaun."

"We'll leave now so that you can have the entire day to spend with Matthew and his parents," he said. "I'll call you when we're on our way back."

"Do you have everything?" Helga asked frantically. "Do you have snacks, breakfast and lunch money, a fully charged cell phone with al the emergency numbers, and the camera? Did you check your bag to make sure?"

Her husband responded by kissing her on the lips and replying, "It's all taken care of; just focus on _you _right now, okay? We'll call you when we're on our way home."

"Okay," Helga breathed, whilst exhaling a sigh of relief. "I love you."

"I love you too."

The woman smiled as she hugged her in-laws and watched as her family departed for the Hillwood Zoo. Afterwards, she made her way back into the kitchen, where she finished her now lukewarm tea and made her way into the family room. She glanced briefly over at the squashy armchair next to the fireplace, where Mickey and Betty, the aged cats Arnold gave her as kittens, dozed with content. The woman smiled as she reminisced on her time with them throughout the remainder of her high school years and the crazy experiences shared with them when they accompanied she and Arnold to the University of Chicago.

Staring up at the mantel above the fireplace, her eyes rested on the large portrait of she and her husband on their wedding day. Whitney was their wedding photographer, giving them only the best, and their wedding pictures were no exception. Helga loved that particular photograph of them, which was a close-up of she and Arnold on the Hillwood Pier with sunny skies and a vibrant blue body of water behind them. Their eyes were squinted in happiness and Whitney caught them in mid-laugh just as Helga threw her arms around Arnold's shoulders.

Sitting directly on the chimney shelf were five vertical portraits. Shaun and the twins had theirs taken during the previous school year while Miles took Anthony's on an impromptu day at Tina Park.

The first picture was Matthew's senior portrait, which Kevin and Christine sent to her along with his graduation announcement from the San Dieguito Academy. Despite sharing an almost _too strong_ resemblance with his biological father, Matthew looked handsome in the picture, channeling a young George Harrison with a thick mop of dark brown hair and a well-fitted black suit and tie tailored in all the right places. His smile was contagious and the bright blue eyes he inherited from her shone brightly, as though the photographer were telling a joke he found rather hilarious.

Smiling up at the picture of her son, Helga walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed the numerous photo albums and journals (many of them worn with age) chronicling Matthew's life and accomplishments. Helga was grateful that Kevin and Christine kept their word and remained in touch with her throughout Matthew's life. It was more than she could ever ask for, but best of all was when a mere week after receiving his graduation announcement, Matthew wrote to Helga personally, saying that he wanted to meet her, Arnold, and his half-siblings.

Helga was beyond _thrilled _at the prospect of reuniting with the son she relinquished for adoption nearly twenty years ago and immediately began setting up dates and times for them to meet. Arnold looked forward to the meeting as well, seeing as how he'd been involved in Matthew's life before he was even born. Their children were excited and liked that they had another big brother to call their own.

When Shaun asked his parents why his brother didn't live with them, Helga told him that she couldn't take care of Matthew when he was born; for that reason, she gave him to a family who would love and take care him throughout his life in the ways that she _never_ could. The woman then reassured her son that she still loved Matthew with all her heart like she loved him and his younger siblings.

Shaun seemed satisfied with the answer for the time being, but the woman knew that wouldn't always be the case.

To this day, Helga agonized over how she would tell her four children the truth about Matthew's conception and how he _really _entered the world. How could she adequately explain the heartache she endured as a result of falling pregnant at such a young age? Was it even _possible_ explaining to her four children that Matthew didn't have the same father as them? Moreover, the woman didn't want to _fathom _telling her four children, but _especially_ _**her daughters**_**,** that she had been a pregnant teenager.

Arnold was there for Helga during the times when she worried relentlessly about the situation. He not only told her to look on the bright side, but advised that they take each day as it came – one at a time. It was true that they would all have to face the painful, inevitable truths together as a family at some point. However, that day could wait until the children were older and better able to understand.

Helga reached for the first thick volume, which chronicled Matthew's baby and toddlerhood years. She smiled and ran gentle hands over photographs of her son as he took his first steps, smeared his face with birthday cake, opened presents on all the major holidays, took numerous trips to the beach and the community pool, was spoiled rotten by both sets of grandparents and extended family members, forged friendships with his cousins, and experienced his first visits to Disneyland, California Adventure, Knott's Berry Farm, and Sea World. She also observed how his hair lightened from the jet black he was born with to the rich brown it now was.

Next came the onslaught of Matthew's first day of school pictures from his elementary school days, which showed in in crisp ironed clothes, neatly styled hair, and a smile upon his face. One image however, always sent Arnold into a fit of laughter because it showed Matthew at the age of nine with his arms folded wearing a look of _complete __**boredom **_that rivaled Helga's at that time. His school portraits from those years were there as well, once again showing wide grins and missing teeth, which the exception of his third grade picture, wherein he wore the same apathetic look for the camera like he had on his first day of school. Helga noted with a grin that Matthew went back to smiling in his school pictures upon learning that Kevin and Christine had _not _been amused with his antics.

It was also during his elementary school years that Kevin and Christine signed Matthew up for a wide range of extra-curricular activities. Matthew proved to be just as active outside the womb as he was inside of it and began playing rugby, soccer, and volleyball year-round at a young age. In addition, Christine signed her son up for various dance classes and Cotillion, which Matthew was less than _thrilled _about, but that fitted him with grace, proper manners, and poise nonetheless. He also remained busy taking art, guitar, piano, and theatre lessons, showcasing his many talents in artistic endeavors.

The so-called "awkward" middle school years were next, which bestowed upon Matthew the mother load of braces and the starting onslaughts of puberty. He went through a longhaired phase during that time. However, Matthew chopped off his locks of long, brunet hair and had them fashioned into a wig for a little girl in his neighborhood who lost her hair to the rigorous chemotherapy she underwent whilst battling leukemia. Although Helga had seen the picture of her son and the child with their arms around each other, smiling widely at the camera, with the young girl sporting the wig and Matthew's hair shortened hair growing back in thick curls, it always brought her to tears. The woman felt relief upon seeing the photograph for the first time, because it affirmed that she not only made the right decision, but that Kevin and Christine were raising Matthew into becoming a good, genuine person who cared for others.

This was also made manifest with how they involved Matthew in their philanthropic efforts and volunteer work. They traveled to a different country each summer, whereupon Kevin administered check-ups and vaccinations, Christine taught literacy classes, and Matthew helped in whatever ways he could, from building bottle schools to teaching hygiene classes and coaching sports teams. Helga and Arnold were especially thrilled to learn that they met and worked with Dave Eggers as well.

The two of them had the opportunity to meet the author during their graduate studies and always hoped that Matthew would have the same opportunity.

Her son continued his activities throughout middle and high school and added even _more,_ which consisted of him writing for the school newspaper and literary magazine, being a photographer for said newspaper and yearbook, and taking various advanced placement classes. Helga wondered how Matthew still managed to fit in time with his family and friends through it all, as indicated by images of parties, short weekend getaways, school sponsored trips, and vacations he had with them all. It proved that Matthew inherited the creative talents of his biological parents and had the both of them wondering how their son inherited the popularity gene when it clearly skipped over the both of them.

It was also during that time that Matthew started _dating._ The thought of him dating made Helga nervous like it would _any_ parent. She hoped her son would date people of substance and maturity versus those who were superficial and only cared for things of a shallow nature. Fortunately, in sorting through what seemed to be countless photographs of him at homecomings, formals, and proms, Helga learned through Kevin and Christine that Matthew often dated those he hung out with at his extracurricular activities. He also took up fun and creative ways of asking them to the dances, one of which consisted of him frosting brownie bites in brightly colored frosting and spelling out the word **"PROM?"** on his date's garage.

She responded by baking Matthew an entire pan of brownies and writing the world **"YES" **on it in cursive written with pink fondant.

Helga smiled at the picture. Naturally, it came as no surprise to her that Matthew's favorite food was brownies, since she ate _at least_ one brownie ice-cream sundae from Slausen's per day when she was pregnant with him.

Helga finally reached the last album, chronicling the end of Matthew's lustrous high school career. It started with revealing that his high school put on a contest called "Mr. Mustang", which had the participants, comprising of senior boys, performing various stunts in vying for the title. Each participant performed an introductory dance with their date, along with presenting a candidate video, showcasing a talent, taking part in the swimwear competition, and concluding with an eveningwear and short answer segment. The judges of the competition were senior girls from different high schools in the San Diego area and winning the title of "Mr. Mustang" was considered an honor among those attending the San Dieguito Academy.

Of course it came as no surprise to Helga that Matthew _won_ the contest, _especially _with his talent, which consisted of him singing a cover version of Ronnie Matthew's "And Wow" dressed up in a dated white suit and a long, black curly wig with a slew of back-up dancers as he implemented the infamous wrist twist à la Beyoncé in her "Single Ladies" music video. Kevin and Christine were kind enough to send Helga the video of him vying for and eventually winning the title of "Mr. Mustang", which sent her into a fit of hysterics. She showed it to Phoebe as well, who naturally loved every minute of it.

After the documentation of Matthew winning "Mr. Mustang", and numerous photographs of him at his senior prom and awards night, were pictures of his high school graduation. Matthew graduated with honors, looking dapper as ever in his navy blue robes and various honors chords, accompanied by images of him jumping for joy with his fist in the air upon receiving his diploma from the principal and coming together with friends, wherein they made funny faces at the camera and hugged each other, knowing that their lives would never be the same again.

Along with these came the revelation that Matthew was accepted to New York University and would live just a half an hour away from Helga, Arnold, and their children, and just a few minutes from Sid. Matthew wasn't sure what he wanted to major in yet, but had _a lot_ of options; he just needed to give it more thought.

Lastly, came Matthew's letter, revealing that he wanted to meet Helga and her family. The woman remembered breathing a sigh of relief upon reading it, feeling as though a heavy weight she kept within her heart for nearly two decades was no longer there. She felt lighter and happier, knowing that she would feel whole again upon reuniting with Matthew.

Helga ran a hand over her son's letter written in the neat, cursive handwriting he inherited from her. She recalled the tears of pure joy that fell from her eyes and down her cheeks upon learning that Matthew actually wanted to meet her. There were days where she feared her son would want nothing to do with her. She always trusted Kevin and Christine, but also heard "horror stories" from other birthmothers at the support groups she attended about adoptive parents who closed the adoptions and contracts they shared with the child's biological parents.

Additionally, the woman witnessed firsthand the heartache of those forced to live with knowing that the children they gave up had no interest in meeting them.

Helga hoped and prayed during those eighteen years that she would not be among them.

Learning that she wouldn't be brought her so much peace.

The woman finished reading the letter, smiling as she came to her son's signature, wherein his full legal name was revealed to her for the first time:

_Matthew Caleb Ford._

It came as a surprise to both she and Sid at first, as the two of them had rather uncommon last names that highlighted the rich ancestries they passed down to him. Through Sid's side, their son descended from Irish-Italian ancestry whilst inheriting German, Hungarian, Jewish, and Russian from Helga's.

However, it didn't mean they loved their boy any less.

Despite the enthusiasm she felt when it came to meeting her son, the woman was also afraid.

What if Matthew didn't like her?

What if the meeting went _horribly?_

What if he liked _Sid _better?

The woman instantly chastised herself for thinking that. Admittedly, it came as a surprise to Helga that Matthew also wanted to meet Sid even _after _knowing the details of his conception and his biological father's lack of involvement up until the end. However, she couldn't fault him for wanting to know of his _entire _family and full heritage no matter how hard she tried. She hated acknowledging that it also included Sid.

In the years since Helga and Sid gave their son up for adoption, the two of them maintained a civil relationship. They remained in touch, came together for their tri-yearly meetings, and were even present at each other's weddings. In that time, Sid became a photographer and constantly traveled for his work. His wife Alice was a petite woman with delicate features, tawny eyes, and spiky, but nonetheless longish blonde hair. She taught beat poetry classes at Manhattan Community College and played guitar in her own grunge band. She and Sid planned on starting a family of their own within the year and just seemed so much _cooler_. Helga and Arnold were practically _suburbanized_ compared to them.

What if Matthew thought that Sid and Alice were more fun to be around? Would that make she and Arnold Matthew's set of boring, stiff parents while Sid and Alice were the _cool _ones?

The very thought of all the things that could go wrong during this pivotal meeting worried Helga to no end. When not even Arnold could assuage her fears, she turned to Leilani, who not only knew how it felt to give up a piece of your heart and soul, but who also had the same worries she now did.

The wiser, older woman told advised Helga, "This _isn't _a competition, _Nani._ This _isn't_ a contest for Matthew to judge who of you is the 'cooler parent' and it _shouldn't _be. You don't have _anything _to prove. You did the right thing in giving Matthew the opportunity to be raised by loving parents in a stable environment. He _knows_ that; otherwise, he wouldn't have any interest in meeting you.

"When I learned that Clint wanted to meet Ryan, I'll admit that I was skeptical. However, I wasn't going to throw a fit about it, because doing so would've just lowered me to his level. It was about _Ryan _wanting to know _his family._ It wasn't about _me _and what _I _wanted for him. You have to keep that in mind; chances are that Matthew wants to meet Sid more for _his _own sake than for Sid's."

"But what if this whole thing just turns out to be a disaster?"

"Then at least you tried," Leilani said. "You will _always_ know that you did the right thing in the end… and you will recover eventually."

Leilani's words helped Helga, but the woman also wondered if her friend would think differently if her meeting with Ryan had gone poorly.

While attending the numerous support group meetings for birthmothers, Helga confessed to feeling jealous of those who had positive experiences reuniting with the children they gave up. She never intended to feel that way, knowing that she should be happy for them, but couldn't help it.

After all, what if Helga never got that opportunity?

Helga was happy for Leilani upon learning that her first meeting with Ryan went well and that she also patched things up with Clint. The woman was also glad to hear that Leilani remained in touch with her son and also had a good relationship with his wife and three children.

She only hoped that Matthew would want the same.

Trying to keep her thoughts away from the negative, the woman reflected on the business ahead of her.

Matthew would meet Helga and her family first and planned on spending two days getting to know them, his Aunt Olga, Bob, and Miriam.

He would then spend the next two days with Sid and Alice, along with Ray and Melinda.

The final day had him and his parents coming together with _just _Helga and Sid before moving into his dorm and starting his first semester at New York University.

Whilst thinking about what was to come, Helga put away the thick volumes chronicling her son's life and thought about how her own life came to be.

She was incredibly blessed to have Arnold and their four children in her life. They brought joy into her life when she thought there was none left. In addition, Helga had an amazing support system, not only consisting of her immediate family, but her extended as well; Miles and Stella loved her like the daughter they never had. Bob and Miriam shaped up and were now the devoted parents and grandparents Helga never thought they could be. In those years, Helga also became closer to Olga, who went from being flighty and unreliable to the loyal and supportive sister she had always wanted.

She remained in touch with Phoebe, Whitney, Leilani, and the friends she made during her years in Chicago studying for her Bachelors and Masters degrees in Psychology and Education. Moreover, the woman maintained her correspondence with Doctor Bliss, seeing her as a godsend and someone who helped her in ways no one else could.

It was now both a privilege and honor for Helga to share a practice with the mentor who played such a pivotal role in rescuing her. She not only had a rewarding job as a child psychologist, but also wrote and published various studies and books on the subject of pediatric psychology. However, what was most rewarding to Helga was the support group she ran for pregnant teenagers and those who gave their babies up for adoption. In so doing, she helped those in the way she was helped those years ago.

Helga felt that was the most rewarding aspect of her career.

At that moment, she heard someone knocking on the door from the outside.

It could only be one person.

Taking a deep breath, Helga surveyed her appearance in the entryway mirror one last time before opening the door.

Standing across from her was a striking young man several inches taller than her. He was slender and built similarly to his birthfather, but also had a lot of lean muscle from his frequent sporting activities. His dark brown hair was thick and a little on the long side, his blue eyes widened and radiant.

The young man's skin was slightly tanned and he dressed well. He wore a fitted, light blue collared shirt that brought out his eyes and a navy cardigan, both of which sat just beneath his elbows. A light blue, grey, yellow, and white plaid tie complimented his overall look and he wore form fitting khakis with ox colored dress shoes.

His blue eyes met her own and he gave her a nervous laugh, which sounded _exactly_ like Sid's.

Before Helga could react, the young man smiled, threw his arms around her, and said, _"Thank you. Thank you __**so **__much." _

She hugged her son back, knowing at that moment that everything was going to be okay.

When the two of them parted, Helga caught Kevin and Christine – the two amazing, wonderful people who raised her son – out of the corner of her eye. They looked older, but nonetheless happy, with their arms around each other watching the happy reunion before them.

The young man held his hand out to her and said, "Hi. I've wanted to meet you my entire life. I'm Matthew."

* * *

**Disclaimers: **I do not own the song "Summertime", with written by DuBose Heyward and performed by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.

For reference, here are the songs that inspired the story's chapter titles and their epigraphs. As previously mentioned, I do not own the lyrics or the music and do not infringe upon them:

1) I'll Take Care Of You: Van Morrison  
2) Ode To My Family: The Cranberries  
3) All Of One Is The Other: The Most Serene Republic  
4) Iris: Allred  
5) This Charming Man: The Smiths  
6) More Than This: Norah Jones  
7) Nowhere Man: The Beatles  
8) Blame It On The Rain: He Is We  
9) Here's Looking At You, Kid: Corey Crowder  
10) Here's Looking At You, Kid: The Gaslight Anthem (As previously mentioned, this song has different lyrics from the one listed above it.)  
11) I Wouldn't Mind: He Is We  
12) Hey Ya: Obadiah Parker  
13) Embers And Envelopes: Mae  
14) Give It All: He Is We  
15) What Is Life?: George Harrison  
16) The Places You'll Go: Majandra Delfino  
17) The Harder They Come: Jimmy Cliff  
18) With A Little Help From My Friends: The Beatles  
19) The Freshmen: The Verve Pipe  
20) Summertime: Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong

In regards to Helga and Sid's ancestries, they are of my own making and personal headcanons. I chose Irish/Italian ancestry for Sid, based on the origin of his surname (and also of his two voice actors; Gifaldi=Italian) and his mother's famililal background (Irish-Catholic.)

For Helga, I selected German/Hungarian/Jewish/Russian ancestry based firstly on her surname (Pataki=Hungarian) and the origins of the character's names (Helga=German, Miriam=Hebrew, and Olga=Russian.)


End file.
